Give In to the Ghost
by Mystique6
Summary: Fallon continues to hunt with the boys, but the stakes are up. The danger has increased. Fallon must fight to keep the boys safe from the Yellow Eyed demon. But she also must fight to keep herself.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Well, I'm back with Supernatural! I was very excited to get back to Fallon and the boys. I hope you are too. This chapter is a little different in that it's the third person narration from Dean's point of view. I thought for this chapter it would make more sense and for the most part it went pretty well. The down side is that there isn't a lot of Fallon in this chapter, but I did try and keep her involved as much as possible. Hopefully, there's enough of her that it doesn't feel like she's out of the story. In the following chapters I will go back to the normal narration. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the chapter. Please leave a review! They keep me going. And welcome back!

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own anything from supernatural. The script and characters all belong to the writers and creators of the television show. I own nothing!

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Dean winced as he opened his eyes and was assaulted by the florescent lights. He groaned as he rose to a seated position and, after his eyes adjusted to the funky lighting, glanced around the room. The barren walls and the smell of strong cleaning supplies alerted him to the fact that he was in a hospital room. His next clue was the ache in his back which he was sure was at partly the fault of the uncomfortable hospital bed he was sitting on. Wincing with the effort he swung his feet over the bed and stood up. He glanced around the room again and realized he was alone. He frowned as he tried to remember why he was in the hospital and then his memories flooded him all at once. The demon. With more urgency he rushed out of the room and into the hallway.

"Sam? Dad?" he called out glancing around for them. He didn't see them. "Fallon?" The ghost that had been with them for a year now was missing too, and he frowned as he realized nobody was even glancing his way despite the scene he was causing shouting in the hallway. Frustrated he walked through the halls and down a floor until he came to a nurse's station. A nurse was behind the counter reviewing another patient's chart. He rushed up to the desk.

"Excuse me," he said. "Hi. I think I was in a car accident. My dad and my brother, I just need to find them." He wanted to find Fallon, too, but he figured if she wasn't with him she was with Sam. It would make sense considering he knew the two were closer. Still, he remembered the last time he was in the hospital she had stayed with him almost the whole time. He shook the thought out of his head. He would find her with Sam. He turned his attention back to the nurse he'd questioned and frowned when he noticed she hadn't even looked up from the chart. "Hello?" He snapped his fingers right in her face and she didn't even blink. Suddenly, he began to panic.

Turning on his heels his rushed back up to his room and stared in shock at his body lying motionless on the bed. Tubes seemed to be hooked up to various parts of his body though the most jarring was the one coming out of his mouth that was clearly breathing for him. He found himself grabbing onto the door frame to support himself. "This can't be happening," he said to himself.

"Dean," a soft voice whispered and he glanced up an noticed what he'd missed the first time he'd glanced around the room when he originally woke up. Fallon was sitting beside his bed holding his limp hand. Her thin, heart shaped face was pinched with worry and dismay, but he'd never been happier to see her.

"Fallon!" he cried relieved stepping up to the opposite side of the bed from her. "What's happening?"

She looked up at him, her bright blue eyes filled with tears. "You're dying," Dean," she said.

"I can't be dying," he replied. "How do I get back in my body?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry," she whispered before looking down at his body, eyes glued on his expressionless face.

"Urrgh!" Dean groaned in frustration. "Fallon, where's Sam?"

"I don't know," she replied not even looking at him.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Dean snapped. "You came in with us. You have to know what room he's in. And what about my dad?" She didn't even respond and he sighed in frustration. "Fine. I'll go find them on my own. But he hadn't taken even two steps when Sam turned up in the doorway of his room.

"Sammy!" he exclaimed glancing over his brother. Other than looking extremely worried he didn't seem too banged up. "You look good. Considering."

"Oh, no," Sam moaned staring at his body laying prone on the bed.

Dean groaned. "Man, tell me you can hear me," he sighed. But it was obvious he couldn't. Still, he persisted. "How's Dad? Is he okay? Come on, you're the psychic. Give me some ghost whispering or something!" When he still got no response he turned back to Fallon who hadn't moved at all. "Fallon, tell him I'm right here."

"He can't hear me," Fallon said.

"What?" Dean exclaimed shocked. "What do you mean he can't hear you? We can always hear you. You never shut up." Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind and concern took place of his frustration. "Did Yellow Eyes do something to you that effected your abilities." Fallon tensed but shook her head. "Then why can't he hear you?"

"Because I don't want him to," Fallon replied finally looking back at him.

"What? Why not?" Dean questioned. She never got a chance to answer. A doctor walked in and he turned his attention to him.

"Your father's awake," the doctor said to Sam as he read over his chart. "You can go see him if you want."

"Thank God," Dean sighed relieved.

"Doc, what about my brother?" Sam asked.

"Well," the doctor replied slowly, "he sustained serious injury. Blood loss. Contusions to his liver and kidney. It's the head trauma I'm worried about. There's early signs of cerebral edema."

"What can we do?" Sam asked.

The doctor sighed. "Well, we won't know his full condition until he wakes up," he said and then added after a pause, "if he wakes up."

"If?" Sam questioned sounding devastated.

"I have to be honest…"

"Oh, screw you, Doc, I'm waking up," Dean snapped, but of course the doctor didn't hear him and continued speaking to Sam not noticing the interruption.

"Most people with this degree of injury wouldn't have survived this long," the doctor said. "He's fighting very hard, but you need to have realistic expectations."

Dean felt his skin crawling he was so aggravated. "Come on, Sam," he addressed his brother. "Go find some hoodoo priest to lay some mojo on me. Sam?" But his brother just stared down at his body for a few moments before turning and leaving the room, looking more upset than ever. Dean turned back to Fallon.

"Come on, Fallon, you have to know a way for me to get back in my body," he said.

"There isn't a way," Fallon replied.

"I'm not dead yet. There has to be a way," he insisted. "Fallon, come on!" She flinched at his shout and he immediately felt bad. He reached out to squeeze her shoulder to reassure her but she reared away from his touch. He blinked in surprise and then remembered what Yellow Eyes had revealed about her past and he paled.

"Fallon," he questioned, "what Yellow Eyes showed us…was that…did that really… Evan, did he…"

"Don't," Fallon said harshly.

"Fallon…"

"I said don't," she cried, her eyes taking on a hard glint.

He nodded his head. "Okay," he agreed. "But if you need to talk about it I'll listen." She said nothing in return and looked back at his body on the bed. He stepped back. "I'm going to go find my dad's room. Will you come with me? I feel better when you're with me." Fallon squeezed his limp hand one more time before standing up and following him out of the room.

Finding his father's room turned out to be more aggravating than it was comforting. For one thing, he was unable to talk to his dad because of the whole ghost thing, and Fallon wouldn't un-shield herself. He kind of couldn't blame her for this one though. His father had made no secret that he wanted to lay waste to her. But Fallon was part of the problem too. She was starting to remind him of a stone wall the way she was staring into space and not moving at all. Dean was concerned. She kept insisting the demon hadn't done anything to hurt her or her powers but she was acting so far out of her norm that he wasn't sure he believed her. And he knew that even if she was okay in a physical way, or as much as a physical way you can have when you're a ghost, he knew she was messed up emotionally. He knew better than to breach that subject again though, so other than checking in with her occasionally he more or less left her alone.

Those two facts alone were enough to drive Dean nuts, but what was really getting under his skin, was the fact that his dad was doing nothing. He was lying in a bad watching t.v. while he himself lay dying in a bed a few rooms down. It was infuriating him and he could no longer keep his mouth shut.

"Come on, Dad," he sighed. "You've gotta help me. I've gotta get better, I've gotta get back in there. I mean you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you going to do anything?" He started pacing. "I've done everything you ever asked. Everything. I have given everything I ever had. And you're just going to sit there and you're going to let me die? I mean, what the hell kind of father are you?!"

"Dean," Fallon said.

"What?" he cried whirling around to face her annoyed by her sudden disruption. But he quickly became concerned when he noticed the look of terror on her face. He then heard a noise he'd never heard before. "What is that?"

"No," Fallon whispered.

"Fallon?" he took a step towards her and then she vanished. "Fallon!" He glanced around the room for her, thinking she had to still be there somewhere when he saw something whiz past the door. He blinked in surprise and glanced back at his father who hadn't moved an inch. "I take it you didn't see that." He sighed and stepped out into the hallway. He followed the spirit down the hall and into another patient's room. He froze as he saw a woman gasping for breath.

"Help! Help!" the woman was gasping.

"Hey! I need help in here!" Dean cried but no one heard him and the woman died shortly after. Dean stared in horror at her body for a moment before turning and hurrying back to his father's room. He was relieved when he saw Sam was back.

"Sammy!" he cried missing the fact that Sam looked pissed. "Tell me you can friggin, hear me man. There's something in the hospital. Now, you've got to bring me back and we've got to hunt this thing. Come, on I don't know where Fallon went. Sam!" Sam didn't say anything and that's when he noticed how tense his brother looked.

"You're quiet," John commented having picked up on his younger son's mood.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" Sam spat.

"What are you talking about?" John asked.

"That stuff from Bobby," Sam said, "you don't use it to ward off a demon, you use it to summon one. You're planning on bringing the demon here, aren't you? Having some stupid macho showdown!"

"I have a plan, Sam," John replied slowly.

"That's exactly my point!" Sam cried. "Dean is dying…and you have a plan. You know what? You care more about killing this demon than you do saving your own son!"

Dean groaned. "No, no, no, guys, don't do this," he pleaded them. But his pleas fell on deaf ears as his brother and father continued their argument.

"Do not tell me how I feel," John growled. "I am doing this for Dean."

"How is getting revenge going to help him?" Sam asked. "You're not thinking about anybody but yourself. It's the same selfish obsession!"

"Come on guys, don't do this," Dean begged feeling his skin start to crawl. It grew worse as the two continued to argue. It grew into an uncomfortable heat flushing through his body until he felt like his blood was boiling and then before he knew it he was consumed with rage. "Shut up, both of you." And then when the fighting continued his rage finally boiled over and he smacked the cup of water on his dad's tray flying. "I said shut up!"

"What the…" Sam murmured as all three stared at the water spilled all over the floor. The rage that had consumed Dean so suddenly before dissipated just as quickly and he felt extremely pleased with himself for moving the cup.

"Dude, I full on Swayze'd that mother," he cheered gleefully. "No wonder Fallon was so excited getting the hang of this last year." His excitement ended though when pain filled every inch of his body. It felt like something in his head was going to explode and he clutched at his temples as he fell to his knees. He forced himself to open his eyes when he heard people rushing past his dad's room.

"What is it?" Dean groaned forcing himself to his feet and following the group of doctors and nurses to his own room. He was shocked to see them all huddle around his body and dread filled him as he noticed his heart monitor had flat lined. "Shit!" He watched in growing dismay as the doctor failed to resuscitate him the first few times. He then tensed when he saw the ghostly figure he'd seen earlier hovering above him. He rushed towards it.

"You get the hell away from me," he ordered. "I said get back!" The figure disappeared and the heart monitor immediately went back to beating as it picked his pulse back up. Dean paid no attention to that though. Instead he ran back out into the hallway but it was already gone. Dean heard screaming suddenly and took off towards the sound. He found a girl desperately moving from person to person trying to get their attention.

"Can't you see me?" she asked the passing nurses. "Why won't you look at me?"

Dean walked up to the girl. "Can you see me?" he asked.

"Yeah," the girl replied looking both relieved and confused.

"Alright, just calm down," Dean told her. "What's your name."

"Tessa," she said.

"I'm Dean," he said.

"What's happening to me?" Tessa asked. "Did I die?"

"That sort of depends," Dean answered. "Come on, let's find your room." She led him down the hall and they both looked in to see her body lying motionlessly on a hospital bed.

"I don't understand," Tessa groaned. "I just came in for an appendectomy."

"Well, I hate to bear bad news, but I think there were some complications," Dean replied.

"It's just a dream," Tessa said shaking her head. "It's just a weird, unbelievably vivid dream."

"That's what Fallon said it felt like at first," Dean said.

"Who's Fallon?" Tessa asked.

"Fallon's my friend," Dean replied and then realized what he said and back tracked. "Well, she's not my friend, per se, but I know her pretty well, and she's a ghost. Well, anyway she said she thought she was dreaming right after she died."

"So we're ghosts now too?" Tessa asked. "But how, we're not dead yet."

"You ever heard of out of body experience?" Dean asked.

"What are you, some new agey guy?" Tessa scoffed.

"You see me messing with crystals or listening to Yanni?" Dean snorted. "It's actually a very old idea, and I think it's happening to us. And if it is, it means that we're spirits of people close to death."

"So, we're going to die?" Tessa said defeated.

"No," Dean replied firmly. "Not if we hold on. Our bodies can get better, we can snap right back in there and wake up."

"Your friend didn't," Tessa pointed out.

"Fallon, didn't have an out of body experience," Dean said. "She was shot. She died instantly. And she's not my friend."

"Right," Tessa replied unconvinced. "Where is she anyway?"

"She was spooked earlier and ran off," Dean answered. "Hospitals really freak her out."

"I could see why," Tessa said.

"Yeah, but, I gotta say, I'm impressed," Dean told her.

"With what?" Tessa asked.

"With you," Dean replied. "Most people in your spot would be Jell-O right now. You're taking this pretty well."

"Don't get me wrong," Tessa replied, "I was pretty freaked at first. Maybe I'm dealing."

"So you're okay with dying?" Dean questioned.

"Of course not," Tessa answered. "I just think whatever's gonna happen will happen. It's fate."

"Well, that's crap," Dean replied. "You always have a choice. You can either roll over and die or you can keep fighting."

"I hear what you're saying, but your friend, Fallon, didn't have a choice from what you're telling me," Tessa pointed out.

"No, her choice was taken from her!" Dean cried.

"I'm sorry," Tessa replied. "I didn't mean to upset…." She was cut off by the overhead speakers blaring an alarm.

" **Room 237, code blue. Dr. Kripke to room 237, code blue."**

Dean started moving. "Where are you going?" Tessa called out after him.

"Just wait here," Dean called over his shoulder as he continued to hurry down the hall until he found room 237. He enters the room to see a doctor trying to resuscitate a patient and a ghostly figure hovering above said patient.

"Get away from her!" Dean yelled. He rushed at the figure which quickly vanished. He looked over at the patient's heart monitor expecting it to pick back up the person's heart beats but it continued to flat line.

"Alright, let's call it," a doctor said. "Time of death, five eleven pm."

"What the hell?" Dean muttered. After a few moments he decided to head back to his room and try and come up with a new plan. He hadn't been there long when Sam came in carrying what looked like a board game.

"Hey, I think maybe you're around," Sam spoke out to the room and Dean perked up as he realized Sam was at least marginally aware of his presence and he edged closer to his brother who went on talking. "Don't make fun of me for this, but, um, well, there's one way we can talk." He placed the board game down on the floor and Dean read its name on the box cover. "Ouija Board.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," Dean said as Sam set up the board.

"Dean, are you here?" Sam asked.

"God, I feel like I'm at a slumber party," Dean grumbled as he sat down across from Sam and rested his finger side on the opposite side of the pointer from Sam's. He slowly pushed the pointer to the YES sign on the board. He blinked in surprise. "I'll be damned."

Sam laughed in relief. "It's good to hear from you man," he said. "It hasn't been the same without you, Dean." He frowned then. "Is Fallon with you." Dean slid the pointer towards the NO sign. Sam sighed. "I'm worried about her, Dean. I haven't seen her since before the car accident. Have you?"

"Yes," Dean said moving the pointer. "And you should be worried. She's messed up right now. But that's not what we need to discuss right now." He started moving the pointer down to the alphabet written on the board and started to spell out hunting.

"Hunting?" Sam questioned. "What, are you hunting?" Dean slid the pointer back to yes. "It's in the hospital? Do you know what it is?"

"One question at a time dude," Dean snapped annoyed.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

Dean moved the pointer back to the alphabet and spelled out REAPER. "I don't think it's killing people," he explained. "I think it's taking them. You know, when their time's just up."

"A reaper?" Sam said surprised. "Well, no wonder Fallon took off. She's terrified of them." His eyes widened as realization dawned on him. "Dean, is it after you." Dean slid the pointer to YES. "If it's here natural, there's no way to stop it."

"Yeah, you can't kill death," Dean laughed humorlessly. "I'm screwed, Sam."

"No. No, no, no," Sam said. "There's got to be a way." He stood up. "Dad'll know what to do." Dean watched him rush out of the room. He stood up and waited a few moments, unsure what to do now, but after a few minutes Sam was rushing back into the room carrying their dad's journal.

"Dad wasn't in his room, but I got his journal," Sam said. "Maybe there's something in here." Dean walked up behind him and read the page on reapers over his shoulder. His eyes widened.

"Son of bitch!" he exclaimed and then tore out of the room. He stuck his head in and out of room's until he saw the girl he'd met earlier sitting on a bed in an empty room.

"Hi, Dean," she greeted.

"You know," Dean said angrily, "you read the most interesting things. For example, did you know that reapers can alter human perception? I sure didn't. Fallon never mentioned it. Basically, they can make themselves appear however they want. For instance, a pretty girl. You're much prettier than the last reaper I met."

"I was wondering when you would figure it out," she sighed.

"I should have known," Dean said. "That whole 'accepting fate' rap of yours is far too laid back for a dead chick. But the mother and the body. I'm still trying to figure that one out."

"It's my sandbox," the reaper explained. "I can make you see whatever I want. Fallon, thought she was speaking to her grandmother at first."

"So, you were Fallon's reaper to," Dean said. "Is this a turn on for you? Toying with people?"

"Well, you didn't give me much of a choice," Tessa replied. "You saw my true form and you flipped out. Kinda hurts a girl's feelings. This was the only way I could get you to talk to me. Especially with Fallon's influence on you."

"Fallon doesn't have any influence over me," Dean snapped. "But fine. We're talking now. What the hell do you want to talk about?"

"How death is nothing to fear," Tessa answered. "I's your time to go, Dean. You're living on borrowed time already."

Dean shook his head. "I'm sure you've heard this before but you've got to make an exception," he said.

"Stage three: bargaining," Tessa commented.

"I'm serious," Dean insisted. "My family's in danger. We're in the middle of this war and they need me."

"The fight's over for you," Tessa said. "You're not the first soldier I've plucked from the field. They all feel the same way you do. The battle will still go on without them."

"My brother, he could die without me," Dean said. "And Fallon…she can't take another hit right now."

Tessa smiled sadly. "I wish I could have done something for Fallon," she admitted. What happened to her was unfair. But I couldn't do anything for her and I can't for you. And your brother, maybe he'll die and maybe he won't, but there's nothing you can do about it. It's an honorable death."

"I think I'll pass on the seventy-two virgins, thanks," Dean scoffed. "I'm not that into prude chicks anyway."

"That's funny," Tessa said. "You're very cute."

"There's no such thing as an honorable death," Dean stated. "My corpse is going to rot in the ground and my family is going to die! I'm not going with you."

"Well, like you said, and Fallon has shown you, there's always a choice," Tessa sighed. "I can't make you come with me. But you're not getting back in your body. Yes, you can stay. You'll stay here for years. Disembodied, scared, and over the decades it'll probably drive you mad. Maybe you'll even get violent."

"What are you saying?" Dean questioned.

"How do you think angry spirits are born, Dean?" Tessa replied. "They can't let go and move on. And you're about to become on. The same thing you hunt."

"It doesn't have to be like that," Dean insisted. "Fallon's a ghost. She's not violent."

"I'm not so sure about that," Tessa said sadly.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"That you're seeing what you want to see, Dean," Tessa answered. "You care about her and don't want to have to watch her become the monsters you hunt. But she's already different than who she was a year ago when you met her. She's less human, quicker to anger, and way too powerful for her age."

Dean shook his head. "You're wrong about her," he said.

"I hope I am," Tessa replied. "But it still doesn't change the fact that it's time to put the pain behind you."

"And go where?" Dean snapped.

"Sorry," Tessa said. "I can't give away the punchline. So, we're at the moment of truth. There's no changing your mind later. What's it going to be?" Dean sighed and opened his mouth to answer when the lights started flickering and a buzzing sound filled the air.

"What are you doing that for?" Dean asked angrily.

"I'm not doing it," Tessa replied concerned. They both turned towards an air vent in the room that was emitting black smoke.

"What the hell?" Dean cried.

"You can't do this! Get away!" Tessa cried at the smoke.

"What's happening?" Dean asked.

Tessa turned back to him and her eyes were yellow. "Today's your lucky day, kid," she said in a deeper voice. And then suddenly, Dean felt something tug his body and he was suddenly opening his eyes and choking on the breathing tube in his throat.

"Dean?" he heard Sam cry by his bed and then heard him getting up and rushing out into the hall for help.

Life seemed to go by in blur as the doctors unhooked his equipment and began to run tests on him again. It sped by through his conversation with his father. And it flew by his father's sudden death. It continued to race as a day later his doctor released him from the hospital and Bobby picked them up in the lobby.

Dean couldn't take in anything. Not the words that were spoken as Bobby drove them back to his home, or the sights passing by. He knew Bobby and Sam were discussing his father's funeral but he had no energy to join in the conversation. They pulled up to Bobby's house and had just reached the porch when Bobby spoke.

"Hey, listen," he said, "I'm not sure if there's anything you two can do, but your friend showed up here a few nights ago and…"

"Fallon?" Sam exclaimed. "Well, is she alright? What happened?"

"Well for a ghost I guess she's okay physically, but she's not right in the head at the moment," Bobby replied. "I don't know what that demon did to her, but she's messed up real bad. Just stares at nothing for hours on end." He turned to Dean. "She's convinced you're dead. I told her you were fine and she'd see you when I brought you back here today, but she doesn't believe me. I think she needs to see you for herself."

Dean nodded. "Guess I shouldn't keep her waiting," he said tonelessly, but he had perked up a little at the mention of Fallon. He'd been worried about her after she disappeared from the hospital. Bobby opened the door and they all walked in. Dean saw her right away sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. She didn't seem to notice them, even as the door was shut behind them. She was staring into space with no life in her eyes.

"Fallon?" Sam called softly.

Her eyes turned to Sam's and then they found Dean's face. She gasped. "Hey, Fallon," Dean greeted and she was instantly in his arms. He wrapped his arms around her tightly as he stared ahead of him. For a moment, he felt a temporary peace settle over him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Well, you can thank a trip to NYC for this chapter being completed today. After all the walking I did, including walking across the Brooklyn Bridge and back, I could barely walk today. So there was nothing preventing me from working on this chapter! So two big things yesterday...I got to cross crossing the Brooklyn Bridge off my bucket list and I realized I should join a gym. But, hey, at least I lost three pounds! Anyway, I really love this chapter and had a good time writing it. I hope you all enjoy reading it and if you have time please leave a review. Thanks for reading!

 ******* For those of you who don't realize this, Fallon is from an Italian heritage. She curses in Italian in this chapter. I did Google the Italian word for fuck and got cazzo. I am not a hundred percent sure I have that right and apologize if it is wrong. If you know the correct word please let me know and I will fix it. *******

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing from Supernatural. The script and characters all belong to the amazing writers and creators of the television show. Only Fallon is mine.

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Fallon was sitting cross legged on the trunk of a rusted-up car watching Dean work on the Impala. The same thing she had done every day in the week since their father had been put to rest. Fallon had to admit she was impressed with the work Dean had done on the car. When she first arrived on Bobby's car lot the Impala had been nothing more than a twisted hunk of metal. A week later and it still needed a ton of work, but the frame looked like a car again. She had made sure to praise Dean's work earlier that morning and had been rewarded with a small smile. For the past week, she had done everything in her power to get that reaction from him. Every day she followed him out into the yard and watched him work on his car.

Both boys were a wreck over their father's death, but pain seemed to radiate from Dean in waves and soak up the air around him. Dean was drowning in his grief, and Fallon was determined to pull him back to the surface. So, she made herself available to him at almost all hours of the day. Some days she just sat there quietly and neither spoke. Other days she would prattle on and on about her old life, even when she knew he wasn't really listening to her. Once, he had initiated the conversation and the two had talked about music. She took her cues from Dean depending on the day to determine what he needed.

Of course, she tried to do what she could for Sam as well, but he didn't seem to want her company. Whenever she wandered into Bobby's house to check on him he was buried deep in John's notes on the demon they were hunting or trying to crack the code on his father's phone to his voicemail. He seemed to be determined to get revenge for what had happened. After blocking Fallon out for two days Bobby must have said something to Sam because on the third day he'd apologized and spent a half hour discussing possible options about ganking the demon before he dismissed her and started looking through his father's notes again.

So, at the end of the week Fallon took her usual seat in the junkyard and was watching Dean work when Sam came outside. He smiled at Fallon as he approached before looking over the Impala.

"How's the car coming along?" he asked.

"Slow," Dean answered coming out from under the hood.

"It's coming along though," Fallon said. "I can't believe what he's been able to do in only one week."

"Yeah?" Sam replied. "Need any help?"

"What, you under a hood?" Dean scoffed. "I'll pass. Besides, I already have Fallon to pass me the tools. She gets them right about fifty percent of the time, too."

"Har, har," Fallon laughed sarcastically and Dean shot her a real smile this time.

"Need anything else, then?" Sam asked.

The smile dropped immediately from Dean's face. "Stop it, Sam," he said.

"Stop what?" Sam questioned.

"Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I'm okay," Dean replied. "I'm okay. Really. I promise."

"Alright Dean, it's just…we've been at Bobby's for over a week now and you haven't brought up Dad once."

"You know what? You're right," Dean snapped. "Come here. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance."

"Dean, he's just looking out for you," Fallon soothed sliding off the trunk of the car and walking up to the boys. "You both need to cut each other some slack."

Dean snorted. "Fine, I'll cut Mr. Sensitive some slack," he said.

"Don't patronize me, Dean," Sam cried. "Dad is dead. The Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you're acting like nothing happened. Both of you are."

"What do want me to say?" Dean cried. "What do you want Fallon to say?"

"Say something, alright?" Sam yelled. "Hell, say anything! Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all the two of you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this damn car."

"Revenge, huh?" Dean questioned.

"Yeah," Sam replied.

"Sounds good," Dean said. "You got any leads on where the demon is? Making heads or tails of any of Dad's research? Because I sure ain't. But you know, if we do finally find it…oh. No, wait, like you said, the Colt's gone. But I'm sure you've figured out another way to kill it. We've got nothing Sam. Nothing, okay? So, you know the only thing I can do? Is I can work on the car."

"Well, we've got something all right?" Sam replied.

"Sam, can this wait?" Fallon asked feeling drained.

"No, I think it could be relative," Sam replied pulling out their father's cell phone. "It's what I came by here to tell you. This is one of dad's old phones. Took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this." He held the phone out so they could all hear and let the voicemail play. A woman's voice filled the lot around them.

"John, it's Ellen," she said. "Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me."

"That message is four months old," Sam said.

"That's a long time to keep a message in your voicemail," Fallon commented.

"Dad saved this chick's message for four months?" Dean questioned. Sam nodded. "Well, who's Ellen? Any mention of her in Dad's journal?"

"No," Sam answered. "But I ran a trace on her phone number and I got an address."

"Well, let's go," Fallon said. "It can't hurt to check it out. Think Bobby will let us use on if his cars?"

* * *

Bobby did let them use one of his cars. Unfortunately, the only car in working order was a minivan, which Dean was still grumbling about as they pulled up to their destination.

"This is humiliating. I feel like a friggin' soccer mom!"

"It's the only car Bobby had running," Sam said for the millionth time.

"Let's just find Ellen, shall we?" Fallon cut in. The three walked into the bar.

"Hello?" Sam called out. "Anybody here?" They walked around the empty bar. Well, it was empty except for them and some guy passed out on a table in the back.

"I guess the owner is letting him sleep it off?" Fallon said.

"Guess so," Sam replied. "Come on, you and I will check out the back room. Fallon followed him through a door. The backroom turned out to be the kitchen. It looked just as empty as the barroom. Sam started walking off in one direction so she decided to explore another part of the room. She walked through a shelf filled with spices and other ingredients only to come face to face with a middle-aged woman…who was staring at her in shock.

"Oh, you can see me," Fallon said. "And you're probably wondering why I can walk through shelves. Well, don't freak out but…. Hey!" Fallon shrieked in pain as the woman threw salt on her she had grabbed from the shelf. Before Fallon could recover the woman had her in a salt circle. "What the hell?"

"Fallon?!" Sam called.

"Sam!" Fallon called. "I think this might be Ellen." She watched as the woman walked off towards Sam and heard a slight struggle. When she heard the woman ushering Sam out of the room she figured out who won. She looked around her desperate. She needed to get to Sam and Dean. Suddenly, her eyes landed on a window that was almost right in front of her. It had been breezy outside. She thought if she could get the window open the wind might break the salt circle. Figuring she had nothing to lose she lift her hands out in front of her and raised them up slightly, palms facing the ceiling. The window opened a crack. Excited she tried again, this time with more focus. The window shot up and a blast of air rushed in… breaking the salt circle.

Smiling in delight Fallon rushed out of the circle and barged back into the main room where both Sam and Dean were being held at gun point. "Let them go!" she ordered.

The woman turned and stared at her in shock. "How did you get out of the salt circle."

"I opened a window."

"What?" Dean asked.

"I opened the window and a blast of wind broke the salt circle," Fallon explained and then glanced around at the group's incredulous faces. "I'm a freaking badass!"

"Yeah, okay," Dean huffed.

"Admit it, Dean. You're impressed," Fallon said.

"Dean?" the woman who had trapped her said. "Winchester?"

"Yeah," Sam and Dean both said.

"Son of a bitch!" Ellen exclaimed.

"Mom, you know these guys?" the blonde girl who had a gun on Dean asked. She looked to be about Fallon's age.

"Yeah, I think these are John Winchester's boys," Ellen replied lowering her gun. "Hey, I'm Ellen. This is my daughter, Jo."

Jo lowered her gun. "Hey," she said.

"Fallon Romano, if anyone cares," Fallon piped up.

Ellen turned to look at her. "I heard there was a ghost traveling with the Winchesters," she said. "I should have caught on sooner."

"She's not vengeful," Dean said walking towards Fallon.

"Not yet," Ellen said. "But I have no problem with her being around until that day comes. Now what are you two boys doing here?"

"You called our dad," Dean said. "You said you could help. With what?

"Well, the demon, of course," Ellen replied. "I heard he was closing in on it."

"What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed?" Dean questioned sarcastically. "I mean, who are you? How do you know about all this?"

"Hey, I just run a saloon," Ellen said. "But hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once."

"How come he never mentioned you before?" Dean asked.

"You'd have to ask him that," Ellen replied.

"So why exactly do we need your help?" Dean asked defensively.

"Oh, for the love of God, Dean," Fallon snapped. "Why don't you just shine an interrogation light on her? Quit playing bad cop."

Ellen smiled at her before turning back to Dean. "Look, if you don't want my help, fine," she said. "Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if…" She cut off and her expression changed as she realized the truth. "He didn't send you." Dean looked away from her. "He's alright, isn't he?"

"No. No, he…" Sam choked off.

"John died a few weeks ago," Fallon finished for him. "We think it was the demon."

"I'm so sorry," Ellen said to the boys.

"It's okay," Dean said roughly. "We're alright.

"Really?" Ellen questioned. "I know how close you and your dad were."

"Really, lady, I'm fine," Dean snapped defensively.

"Dean," Fallon scolded lightly placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She felt his tension leave his shoulders at the action.

"Look, if you can help, we could use all the help we can get," Sam said breaking the awkward silence.

"Well, we can't, but Ash will," Ellen said.

"Who's Ash?" Sam asked.

"Ash!" Ellen called loudly and the unconscious man on the table jerked awake.

"What?" he asked groggily. "It closin' time?"

"That's Ash?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Mm-hmmm," Jo hummed. "He's a genius."

"I'm a genius," Fallon stated. "I have an IQ if 183. He's a small-town drunk."

"Just give him a chance," Jo said.

Dean sighed and passed the man a manila folder as they sat down at the bar. "Alright, this stuff's about a year's worth of our dad's work," Dean explained. "Let's see what you make of it."

Ash skimmed through the folder. "Come on," he sighed. "This crap ain't real. There ain't nobody who can track a demon like this."

"Our dad could," Sam said.

"There are non-parametrics, statistical overviews, prospects and correlations, I mean… damn!" Ash exclaimed. "They're signs. Omens. Uh, if you can track them you can track this demon. You know, like crop failures, electrical storms… You ever been struck by lightning? It ain't fun?"

"I feel like that explains so much," Fallon commented wryly.

"So can you track it or not?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, with this I think so," Ash replied. "But it's gonna take time. Give me…. fifty-one hours." He got up and started to wander towards the kitchen.

"Hey, man?" Dean called out to him.

"Yeah?" Ash asked.

"I, uh, dig the haircut," Dean said referring to his mullet.

"All business up front, party in the back," Ash replied before disappearing behind the kitchen door.

"Do me a favor," Fallon said. "Don't ever style your hair like that."

Dean laughed. "Since when do I ever do you favors?" he teased ruffling her hair.

"Dean!" she snapped annoyed. She then noticed Dean's attention drifting off towards Jo as she passed them and he got up to follow her. Fallon scowled and moved over to sit by Sam.

"Please don't go all 'Mean Girls' on her," Sam pleaded.

"Just because I was a mean girl in high school doesn't mean I am now," Fallon replied testily.

"Right," Sam replied giving her a look. He then frowned as he noticed a stack of files on a table behind the bar. "Hey, Ellen, what is that?"

"It's a police scanner," Ellen said referring to the device next to the files. "We keep tabs on things, we…"

"He meant the folder," Fallon cut her off still pouting over Dean ditching her.

"Uh, I was gonna give this to a friend of mine, but take a look it you want," Ellen said passing the folder over to them.

"You know, I used to pick up guys at bars not jobs," Fallon huffed.

"You're not the only one who misses those days," Ellen replied as she walked off to clean something.

"What do you say?" Sam asked skimming through the folder. "Ready for a hunt?"

"I'm not the one you need to get on board," Fallon said. "I've got nothing better to do with my time. But Dean has been avoiding life for the past two weeks so…"

"I got the point," Sam interrupted her. "You know, you can turn into a real bitch when there are other women around."

"No girl likes other girls, Sam," Fallon said.

Sam rolled his eyes and turned in his seat to face Dean. "Dean, come here. Check this out."

"Yeah?" Dean questioned rejoining them at the bar.

"A few murders not far from here that Ellen caught wind of," Sam explained. "Looks to me like there might be a hunt."

"So?" Dean replied.

"So, I told her we'd check it out," Sam answered.

"Always the volunteer," Dean grumbled. "I'll meet you out at the car."

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," Fallon said as they watched Dean stalk out the door.

"I got him to go on the hunt, didn't I?" Sam replied smugly.

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me," Dean cried as they drove towards the hunt. "A killer clown?"

"I already don't like this case," Fallon said from the backseat.

"Yeah, he left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents," Sam explained. "Ripped them to pieces, actually."

"And this family was at a carnival that night?" Dean questioned.

"Right," Sam replied. "The Cooper Carnivals."

"So what makes you think this isn't just some crazed carney?" Fallon asked. "I mean, carnivals are known for hiring sketchy employees."

"Well, the cops have no visible leads, and all the employees were tearing down shop," Sam answered. "Alibis all around. Plus, this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course."

"To be fair, it really could just be trauma," Fallon said. "I'd be traumatized if my parents were ripped to shred by some clown."

Dean chuckled. "Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam. Why did it have to be clowns?"

"Oh, give me a break," Sam grumbled.

"Sam, you're afraid of clowns?" Fallon asked amused.

"Yeah, he is," Dean exclaimed cheerfully. "I mean he still busts out crying when he sees Ronald McDonald on t.v."

"Well, at least I'm not afraid of flying," Sam shot back.

"Planes crash!" Dean cried.

"And, apparently, clowns kill!" Sam retorted.

"Okay, that's enough you two," Fallon broke up the argument. "Everyone's afraid of something. There's no reason to rib each other over it."

"Yeah, you're right, it's…was that a bee?"

"Where?" Fallon shrieked grabbing the door handle to jump out.

"He was messing with you there's no bee," Sam said over Dean's laughing. "Dean, that's not funny. It took her months to stop flinching whenever she even thought she heard something buzz."

"Alight, alright," Dean replied still chuckling a little. "Sorry, Fallon."

"Let's just refocus on the case, shall we?' Fallon said tersely.

"These types of murders ever happen before?" Dean questioned.

"According to the file," Sam said, "1981, the Bunker Brother's Circus, same M.O. It happened three times, three different locales."

"It's weird though," Dean commented. "I mean, if it is a spirit, it's usually bound to a specific location."

"Not for all of us," Fallon said. "I can go wherever. But if it's a ghost that plays by the normal rules maybe it's attached to an object?"

"Great," Sam huffed. "Paranormal scavenger hunt."

"Well this case was your idea," Dean pointed out. "I thought you were hell bent for leather on the demon hunt."

"I don't know," Sam sighed. "I just think, this job, it's what Dad would have wanted us to do."

"What Dad would have wanted?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Yeah. So?"

"Nothin'," Dean replied. Fallon groaned to herself in the backseat. She had the feeling she'd be playing the mediator between the two boys soon enough.

* * *

Fallon wandered around the carnival trying to see if she could sense any cursed object. So far, the only thing she sensed were the parents' growing weariness as their kids dragged them from attraction to attraction. She had just passed one game stall when she heard one kid start to whine

"One more time, Mommy! I want the big gorilla!" the kid pleaded tugging at her mother's skirt to keep her in place. Fallon walked back over and checked out the game. It was the one where you had to get the whiffle balls into the red cup to win the big prize. Fallon smiled. She had been a big fan of this game herself when she was a kid.

"Just one more game, Hilary," the mother sighed as she exasperatedly handed over another five-dollar bill to the game attendant. Fallon watched the girl toss the whiffle ball. It over shot the red cup by a mile, but before it could land in one of the plain, white cups Fallon extended a hand and forced in back until it plopped into the red solo cup.

"Mommy, I won!" the girl shrieked, ecstatic.

"That's great, honey," the mother replied forcing a smile as she held onto the giant gorilla.

"That was nice of you," Dean commented.

Fallon smiled up at him. "It's nice to win sometimes," she said shrugging. "Besides, I always wanted to win the stuffed animals when I was a kid."

"You'd want the giant gorilla, huh?" Dean laughed.

"Well, actually, in this instance I would have wanted the fluffy, white baby seal," she replied referencing one of the medium sized animals, "but I wouldn't have turned my nose up at the gorilla."

Dean laughed again. "You're a nut," he teased. "Come on, let's find Sam. I've got news regarding the case." The two began to meander their way through the crowd until they spotted Sam standing alone looking very uncomfortable as the bearded lady walked past him.

"Did you get her number?" Dean teased.

"What have you found out?" Sam asked scowling. "Anymore murders?"

"Two more last night," Dean confirmed. "Apparently, they were ripped to shreds. And they had a little boy with them."

"Who fingered a clown," Sam said,

"Phrasing!" Fallon cried.

"Hilarious," Sam replied.

"Yeah, a clown," Dean said. "Who apparently vanished into thin air.:

"Dean, you know looking for a cursed object is like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles," Sam said. "They could be anything. Even with Fallon's help we don't have much of an advantage."

"Well, it's bound to give off EMF, so we'll just have to scan everything," Dean replied. "Whoever doesn't get the scanner takes Fallon."

"Oh, good, that's nice and…. Inconspicuous," Sam said.

"I guess we'll just have to blend in," Dean replied staring at a help wanted sign.

* * *

"Well, this'll be a new disguise for you two," Fallon commented as she followed the boys into a show tent. Inside a man was throwing knives at a target. Dean approached him.

"Excuse me, we're looking for a Mr. Cooper, have you seen him around?" he asked.

The man whirled around. "What is that? Some kind of joke?" the man snapped pulling off his sunglasses to reveal clouded eyes. Fallon instantly started laughing at Dean's face. He looked mortified.

"Oh, God, I'm, I'm sorry," he spluttered.

"You think I wouldn't give my eyeteeth to see Mr. Cooper?" the blind man continued to rant. "Or anything at all?"

"Wanna give me a little help here?" Dean hissed at Sam.

"Not really," Sam chuckled enjoying Dean's discomfort as much as Fallon.

"Hey man, is there a problem?" another man walked into the tent. This circus performer was a midget.

"Yeah, this guy hates blind people," the blind man accused.

"No, I don't, I…"

"Hey buddy, what's your problem," the little man cried.

"Nothing, it's just a little misunderstanding," Dean said quickly. Fallon fell to her knees she was laughing so hard.

"Little?" the midget cried indignantly. "You son of a bitch!"

"Could someone just tell me where Mr. Cooper is?" Dean cried exasperated. "Please?"

"Right over here, boy," a gruff sounding old man called. "Why is it you need to see me?"  
"We're looking for employment," Sam said.

"Follow me," the man replied and led them back out of the tent and into a trailer. "You boys picked a hell of a time to join up. We've got all kinds of local trouble."

"What do you mean?" Dean questioned.

"Oh, a couple of folks got themselves murdered," Mr. Cooper said. "Cops always seem to start here first. "So, you two ever worked the circuit before?"  
"Yes sir, last year through Texas and Arkansas," Sam lied.

"Doing what?" Mr. Cooper asked. "Ride jockies? Butcher? ANS men?"  
"Yeah, it's, uh, little bit of everything," Sam hedged.

"Smooth," Fallon remarked.

"You two have never worked a show a day in your lives, have you?" Mr. Cooper called them out.

"Nope," Dean replied honestly. "But we really need the work. Oh, and uh, Sam here's got a thing for the bearded lady." Fallon hid a smile at Sam's indignant expression.

Mr. Cooper stood up. "You see that picture?" he asked pointing to a black and white photo hung on the wall adjacent to his desk. "That's my daddy."

"You look just like him," Sam commented.

"He was in the business. Ran a freak show," Mr. Cooper continued. "Til they outlawed them. Apparently, displaying the deformed isn't dignified. So most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums. That's progress. You see, this place is a refugee for outcasts. But you two? You should go to school. Find a couple of girls. Have two point five kids. Live regular."

"Sir?" Sam said leaning forward. "We don't want to go to school. And we don't want regular. We want this."

"Huh," Dean huffed as they exited his office.

"What?" Sam questioned.

"That whole I don't want to go back to school thing," Dean replied. "Were you just saying that to Cooper, or were you, you know, saying it?"

"I don't think now's the time to psycho analyze, Dean," Fallon said as Sam answered, "I don't know." Dean of course, ignored her.

"You don't know?" he questioned. "I thought that once the demon was dead and the fat lady sings that you were gonna take off, head back to Wussy State."

"I'm having second thoughts," Sam replied.

"Really?" Dean said.

"Okay, you two, I think you can have this discussion later," Fallon tried to interject again. She could spot a fight brewing between these two boys a mile away. And they always tried to put her in the middle.

This time it was Sam who ignored her. "Dad would have wanted me to stick to the job," Sam said.

"Since when do you give a damn what Dad wanted?" Dean snapped. "You spent half your life doing exactly what he didn't want, Sam."

"Since he died, okay?" Sam cut back. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Okay, that's enough!" Fallon cried stepping between the two. "We have a job to do. Sam, come with me. I'll let you know if I sense any cursed object."

* * *

Fallon went off around the carnival with Sam. He was quiet for a few moments as they walked around and Fallon was scanning the carnival for any possible cursed object. But the quiet didn't last.

"Fallon? What the demon showed us that night… did that really happen to you?" Sam asked. "Did Evan…"

"Don't Sam!" Fallon snapped.

"So, you were raped," Sam said.

"Sam," Fallon warned.

"I'm so sorry, Fallon," Sam said. "Why did you never tell me."

"Because I never told anyone, Sam!" Fallon yelled. "I just wanted to move on with my life."

"I just think maybe if you talked to someone about it, you might feel better," Sam persisted.

"Okay, I'm done talking about this," Fallon said.

"I'm just trying to make sure that you're okay," Sam replied.

"I'm fine," Fallon told him. "Can we just get back to the job at hand?"

Sam sighed. "Yeah, okay," he agreed. "Let's check out the funhouse." Fallon stormed ahead of him into the funhouse leaving Sam hurrying to catch up. She ignored him as they made their way through the funhouse. Fallon put all her attention into detecting a cursed object, but nothing was triggering her senses. As they turned one corner a skeleton fell from the ceiling. Caught by surprise Fallon screamed and pushed Sam in front of her,

Sam laughed. "Relax, Fallon, it's not real," he told her. "Although…?"

"Although what?" Fallon asked.

"What if instead of a cursed object this spirit is attached to its own remains," Sam said.

Fallon paled. "You mean this carnival is carrying around human remains?" she squeaked and looked back at the skeleton and frowned. "But those are fake."

"I still think we should look into it," Sam replied. "I'm going to call Dean." He and Fallon made their way out of the fun house and then waited for Dean, who took his own sweet time getting to them.

"Where the hell were you?" Fallon asked. "Why did it take you so long to get here?"

"Long story," Dean sighed. "So, have you got anything else?"

Fallon was about to answer when she heard a little girl shouting in excitement. "Mommy, look a clown!" The three glanced to where the girl was pointing.

"There's nothing there," Sam said.

"Fallon, what does it look like?" Dean asked.

Fallon shook her head, confused. "I can't see it either," she told them.

"You can't see it?" Dean asked surprised.

"Can you sense it?" Sam asked.

"Barely," Fallon replied.

"Well, at least we know who it's targeting next," Dean replied. "We're going to have to stakeout their place. Fallon, stay with them and follow them home. You can get back to us with their address."

"Yeah, sure, no problem," Fallon agreed.

* * *

Later that night the three of them were parked outside the family's house. Sam was bitching at Dean. "I cannot believe you told Papazian about the homicidal phantom clown."

"I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown," Dean replied. "I never said it was real." He then pulled out his gun and cocked it. Fallon kicked the back of his seat hard.

"Put that down!" she hissed. "If someone looks out their windows and sees you waving a gun around they'll call the cops!"

Dean gave her a look before continuing with his story. "I mentioned the Bunker Brother Circus in '81. Guess what?"

"What?" Sam humored him.

"Before Mr. Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers," Dean replied. "He was their lot manager."

"So, Mr. Cooper's the one carrying around this cursed object?" Fallon asked. "Or remains?"

"Something like that," Dean said and then shook his head. "I can't believe we keep talking about clowns."

"We could talk about something else," Sam suggested looking at Fallon in the rearview mirror.

"Shut up, Sam!" Fallon snapped.

"Oh no, you two aren't fighting, are you?" Dean asked warily.

"No, we're not," Fallon replied testily. "Just, let's focus on what we're doing here." The three waited then in silence until they saw a clown approaching the front door, which opened for it a moment later. The three rushed into the house. Sam snatched the kid out of harm's way while Dean shot a rock salt bullet at the spirit. But instead of disappearing the spirit it hit something solid.

"What the hell?" Fallon cried confused, but before any of them could do anything else the little girl's parents were rushing towards them. In the commotion that followed the thing they were hunting got a way and the three had to make a quick exit. Dean started the half broken down many van and floored it. The drove well into the afternoon and had cleared the town. He drove it off the road and he and Sam started to grab their stuff.

"You really think they saw our plates?" Sam asked.

"I don't wanna take the chance," Dean replied. "Besides, I hate this friggin' thing anyway." The three started to walk down the road back towards town. "Well, one thing's for sure. We're not dealing with a spirit. I mean, that rock salt hit something solid."

"Yeah, a person?" Sam questioned.

"If it's a person this job should be left for the police," Fallon commented.

"It could be a creature that can make itself invisible," Sam suggested. "Even to ghosts."

"Yeah, and dresses up like a clown for kicks?" Dean snorted. "Did it say anything in Dad's journal?"

"Nope," Sam replied pulling out his phone.

"Who are you calling?" Dean asked.

"Maybe Ellen or that guy, Ash, will know something," Sam replied. "Hey, you think, uh, Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?"

"No way," Dean answered.

"Then why didn't he tell us about her?" Sam questioned.

"I don't know maybe they had some kind of falling out," Dean snapped.

"You ever notice Dad had a falling out with just about everybody?" Sam commented. Fallon bit her lip. She had a few guesses as to why John couldn't keep any friends, but considering the fact the man was now dead she decided to keep those opinions to herself. Suddenly, she heard Sam's frustrated sigh. "Don't get all maudlin on me, man."

"Oh, here we go," Fallon sighed.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked tiredly.

"I mean that this strong, silent thing of yours, it's crap," Sam cried.

"Oh, god," Dean muttered.

"I'm over it," Sam declared. "This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man."

"You know what, back off, alright?" Dean snapped. "Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to."

"No, no, no. That's not what this is about," Sam insisted. "I don't care how you deal with this, but you have to deal with it man. I mean, you and Fallon have to deal with what's happened."

"Sam," Fallon said.

"No, seriously, Fallon, listen," Sam exclaimed. "You've been just as bad as he is. You keep going back and forth making sure we're okay, but that's just so you don't have to think about what happened to you. And you've been bottling that up for years. I mean you told me yesterday you never told anyone that Evan raped you. It's not healthy to…."

"SHUT UP!" Fallon screeched, her anger so strong the wind around them picked up and Sam was shoved back a little, stumbling to stay upright.

"Fallon," Dean tried to intervene but she ignored him.

"I don't want to talk about!" Fallon shouted. "I don't want to think about what he did to me! About how dirty I felt after. And you have no right to make me talk about it."

"Fallon, that's not what I was trying…"

"Don't, Sam!" Fallon cut him off. "Just leave me alone." She turned on her heels and stormed away from him. She walked fast and then faster feeling like something was trying to catch her. She walked until she felt the panic and all the emotions she had felt that night catch up to her and she found herself gasping for air she did not need anymore. She squeezed her head between her hands with her eyes clenched shut, trying to block out the memory.

"Hey!" she heard Dean's voice call out in concern. And then his hands were gently lowering hers. "Fallon…"

"Don't!" she screeched backing away from him. "I don't want to…. I can't…I can't…"

Dean raised his hands as if surrendering. "I'm not trying to make you talk about it," he told her. "I get it okay? Some things are better off left in the past. I just want to make sure you're okay, alright?" Fallon took in a few more shaking breaths as he spoke to her before finally falling out of her defensive position. The second she did Dean had his arms around her pulling her in tight to him. She let herself be hugged for a moment before pulling back.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"For what?" Dean asked. "Being upset? Sam should have backed off."

"He was just trying to be a good friend," Fallon said.

"Yeah, well, you said you didn't want to talk about it, so he should have listened to you," Dean huffed. Fallon gave him a small smile. He smiled back for a moment before a more serious expression formed on his face and he shifted on his feet awkwardly. "Look, I know you don't want to talk about it."

"Dean…"

"Let me finish, please?" Dean said. She nodded. "I know you don't want to talk about it, and I'm not asking you to. But if you ever did want to talk about it, well, I'll listen." Fallon smiled and this time she hugged him. She wasn't even surprised when she felt his around her shoulder, returning the hug. When they stepped away from each other they saw Sam approaching them.

"Rakshasa," he stated.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"Ellen's best guess," Sam replied. "It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they can't enter a house without first being invited."

"So, they dress up like clowns, and the children invite them in," Dean said. "Why don't they just munch on the kids?"

"Not enough meat? Maybe this one has their own moral code?" Fallon suggested. "Who knows."

"What else did you find out?" Dean asked.

"Well, apparently, they live in squalor," Sam replied. "They sleep on a bed of dead insects."

"Eww," Fallon groaned.

"And they have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years," Sam continued. "Slow metabolism, I guess."

"Well, that makes sense," Dean said. "The carnival today, the Bunker Brokers in '81."

"And probably more before that if we looked back further," Fallon added.

"Who do we know that worked both shows though?" Dean pointed out.

"Cooper," Sam and Fallon said together.

"Here's the most important question," Fallon said. "How do we kill it?"

"Legend goes, a dagger made of pure brass," Sam replied.

"Oh, because those are so easy to come by," Fallon sighed.

"I think I know where to get one of those," Dean said.

"Well, before we go stabbing things into Cooper, we're going to want to make damn sure that it's him," Sam cautioned.

"Oh, you're such a sticker for details, Sammy," Dean teased. "Alright, I'll round up the blade, you and Fallon go check if Cooper's got bed bugs."

* * *

They split up as they re-entered the carnival grounds. It was after hours now, and the grounds were deserted. Fallon and Sam walked in silence for a moment before Sam stuck his arm out in front of Fallon to stop her. She stared up at him confused.

"I'm sorry," Sam said. "I shouldn't have pushed you to talk about what happened. I was just worried about you, but I shouldn't have kept pushing after you said you didn't want to talk about it. In that regards, I guess I'm no better than Evan."

"Okay, drama queen, you can stop the performance," Fallon laughed. "Sam, you are not Evan. Don't ever think that about yourself again. And you don't have to be sorry. You were just being my friend. Look, I know bottling the incident up and pretending like it never happened isn't healthy, but…. I just can't think about it, okay? It's not just the act anymore. It's all the what ifs. What if I had reported it? What if it had led me to at the very least get a restraining order against Evan? I can't let myself think about things I can't change. It makes it so much harder."

Sam nodded. "None of that should have happened to you, Fallon," he said softly. "I want you to know that. And I get it. I won't ask you to talk about it anymore. But I'm here if you ever can."

"I know you are," Fallon said smiling. "You're my best friend, Sammy." Sam smiled at her before pulling her into a hug.

"C'mon," he said when they broke apart. "Let's go investigate Cooper. They approached his trailer and Fallon phased through the wall before unlocking the door for Sam. Sam knelt down and sliced through the mattress. They both took in the fact that there was not one bug inside before the sound of a shotgun being cocked had them spinning around. Mr. Cooper was standing in the door of the trailer with his gun pointed at Sam.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked.

"Uh…" Sam replied. "I was um… I mean…."

"Thought you'd come in here hoping I was naked, did you?" Mr. Cooper accused. Fallon didn't even bother forcing back a laugh at the disgusted look on Sam's face.

"No. That's not why I…"

"Look, let's not make a big deal out of this," Mr. Cooper declared. "You're going to leave this trailer and then I don't want to ever see your face around this carnival again, got it?"

"Yes sir," Sam replied swiftly getting to his feet. He walked quickly past Mr. Cooper and out of the trailer.

"That was great," Fallon said still laughing. "I mean, the look on your face, Sam."

"Let's just wait for Dean," Sam grumbled.

"We're not going to have to wait long," Fallon said. "He's coming this way." They both turned to see Dean rushing towards them.

"So, Cooper thinks I'm a Peeping Tom, but it's not him," Sam said.

"Yeah, so I gathered," Dean panted. "It's the blind guy. He's here somewhere."

"Well did you get the…"

"Brass blades?" Dean snapped. "No, it's just been one of those days."

"I've got an idea, c'mon," Sam said heading the quickly to the funhouse.

"Oh, not this place again," Fallon grumbled as they entered. They only were a few steps in when a wall sprung up between them, cutting Fallon and Dean off from Sam.

"Sam!" they heard Dean calling for them.

"Dean, find the maze, okay?" Sam yelled through the door.

Fallon grabbed Dean's hand and pulled him off down the hall. "I think I know the way," she said.

"You think?" Dean replied.

"I've only been in here once before but…hey!" Fallon shrieked as the floor rotated her one way and Dean another. Before they could get back to each other another wall came up between them. "Cazzo!"

"Fallon!" Dean called.

"Keep going! Find Sam! I'll meet you there!" Fallon called back before turning and running through the funhouse. She ran down two more hallways before she realized she could phase through walls. She kicked a wall before phasing through it and rushing to where she knew the pipe organ was. When she got there, she saw both boys pinned to the organ where they had been trying to rip the pipe off. Through the steam from the pipes she saw the vague outline of the Rakshasa, who had yet to notice her. Acting quickly, she reached out her hand and curled her fingers towards her causing the bent pipe to break off the organ and fly into her hand. The monster turned towards her, but it was too late. Without any hesitation, she plunged the brass pipe into the monster. Blood began to appear from the wound and the next second the pipe fell to the floor covered in blood.

Fallon looked up at the boys who were staring at her in shock. "Well, I had to!" she cried. "You two were stuck."

Dean just shook his head. "I hate funhouses," he declared as he walked past her. Fallon's shoulders sagged in defeat, but Sam squeezed her shoulder.

"Nice job, Fallon," he praised.

"Yeah, but now I'm going to hear about the angry spirit crap again," she sighed.

Sam laughed. "Maybe not," he replied. "Come on, let's get out of here." The two made their way back out of the entrance of the funhouse and started wandering around the carnival grounds looking for Dean.

"Where did he go?" Fallon complained.

"Bathroom, maybe?" Sam replied. "I don't know, he…wait, I see him coming." Fallon looked to wear Sam was pointing to see Dean walking towards them. He was carrying something white and fluffy in his hands. As he got closer a huge smile grew on her face.

"Here," Dean said, pressing the baby seal into her hands. "Congrats on killing your first monster."

"I love it! It's so cute! Thanks!" Fallon squealed throwing her arms around Dean's neck.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean muttered patting her back lightly. "Come on. We've got to find a car to rig and get back to the roadhouse. Ash should have been able to figure out those patterns by now." Fallon let go of him and hugged the stuffed animal to her chest as they left the carnival behind.

* * *

They made sure to go into the bar before it was open so they didn't have to worry about how other hunters would react to Fallon. Ellen looked happy to see them when they walked in. "You three did a hell of a job," she said as she served the boys beer.

"Thanks," Sam replied. Jo suddenly plopped down next to Dean and gave Sam and Fallon a look. Fallon stiffened and was about to say something when Sam dragged her off the stool. "We've gotta go do something over there. Right now."

"That was the only excuse you could think of?" Fallon remarked amusedly as they sat down at table.

"I thought it would be best to get you away from there before you could open your mouth," Sam replied. "You don't seem to react well to other girls."

"No female likes other females, Sam," Fallon stated.

"Yeah, well, you seem to take that to the extreme," Sam chuckled. Before she could retort back Ash came strolling out of the back room.

"Where you guys been?" he asked slurring his words. "Been waitin' for ya."

"We were working a job, Ash. Clowns?" Sam replied trying to prompt him to remember the job assignment.

"Clowns? What the…"

"You got something for us, Ash?" Dean asked trying to keep the man on track. Ash set his laptop down at the bar top and motioned for them to join him.

"Did you find the demon?" Sam asked.

"It's nowhere around," Ash told them. "At least, nowhere I can find. But if this fugly bastard raises his head, I'll know. I mean, I'm on it like a divine on dog dookie."

"Care to explain that?" Fallon inquired.

"I mean, any of those signs or omens appear, anywhere in the world, my rig'll go off," Ash explained. "Like a fire alarm."

"Ash, where did you learn to do all this?" Sam asked.

"M.I.T.," Ash answered. "Before I got bounced for…fighting."

"M.I.T?" Fallon exclaimed her eyes nearly bugging out of her head.

"It's a school in Boston," Ash told her as if she was the dumbest person in the world.

"I know what it is," Fallon grumbled.

"Okay," Dean said intervening. "Give us a call as soon as you know something."

"Si, si, compadre," Ash agreed. Sam, Dean, and Fallon started towards the door.

"If you need a place to stay I've got a couple beds out back," Ellen offered. "Fallon will be okay as long as she stays out of the bar area during open hours."

"Thanks, but no," Dean replied. "There's something I gotta finish."

* * *

Fallon had hoped after the mission that things would go back to normal. Instead, they were the same as they'd been the last two weeks. Dean woke up the day after returning to Bobby's before heading straight out to the Impala. Fallon and Bobby shared a concerned look before she got up and followed him out. She took her spot on the front hood of the car adjacent to the Impala and watched Dean work. She was chattering on about her high school memories when Sam appeared out in the junkyard. He approached them.

"You were right," he told Dean.

Dean looked up from his work. "About what?" he asked.

"About me and Dad," Sam replied. Fallon frowned confused, but realized quickly that the two must have argued after she stormed off that day on the last job. Apparently, the argument was not put to rest as Sam was continuing with his apology. "I'm sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know he died thinking I hate him. So, you're right. What I'm doing right now, it's too little. It's too late."

"Sam," Fallon tried to intervene when she realized he was two seconds away from crying but he waved her off.

"I miss him," he admitted. "And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not alright. Not at all. But neither are you. That much I know." He paused. "I'll let you get back to your work." A moment passed and Fallon had just gotten up to follow Sam when Dean slammed his crowbar through a window of a nearby car. She jumped and watched in shock as he began to slam it into the trunk of his own car.

"Dean!" she cried rushing towards him. "Dean! Stop, stop!" She placed her hand on his wrist as he raised the crowbar again. "Dean, stop, please." He let her take the crowbar out of his hands. She tossed it aside before wrapping her arms around him. Dean buried his face in her neck and stared to cry.

She brought her one hand up and began to card her fingers through his hair. "It's alright," she soothed. "It's alright. I've got you, Dean." She held onto him a little tighter. "I've got you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Well, I'm not in love with this chapter. I don't feel like I was really able to fit Fallon into it well. She's a little under used. But the chapter is complete and there's always the next one. Hopefully, you all will enjoy the chapter. Thank you for reading. And just so you know, I'd never turn down a review.

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing from Supernatural. All rights belong to the creators and writers of the show.

* * *

Fallon was laying across the back seat of the Impala reading a book Sam had bought from a convenience store for her. She'd been reading it nonstop for the past one hundred miles. One bonus to being a ghost was that she couldn't get nauseous from reading in a moving vehicle anymore. When Sam and Dean had pulled up to the Sheriff's office in the town where the most recent supernatural-like activity was going on she hadn't even bothered to put the book down. She was also enjoying being back in the Impala again. After a month of hard work Dean had finally restored the car. He was now the happiest she'd seen him since his father died. When he had finished the car and started the engine he had cajoled her into the passenger seat and took her for an hour-long car ride. It had been nice traveling around just the two of them. And it was also nice now being back on a job, even though she had yet to participate in the hunt at all.

"Hey," Dean's voice pulled her attention away from her book. She hadn't even noticed the boys returned.

"Hey," she replied closing her book. "So, was the sheriff any help?"

"No," Sam answered. "He thought it was ludicrous to even ask if the murders could be linked to Satanists."

"He had no speculations about the mutilated cows?" Fallon questioned as the pulled away from the police station.

"He did," Dean told her. "He thinks they died from the extreme heat the area's been having and then were left out to bloat, eventually splitting open. All-natural causes of death and mutilation."

Fallon shrugged. "That does happen," she said.

"So you think we're wasting our time here?" Sam inquired.

"Well, whether we're dealing with Satanists or just another sick type of serial killer, the unsub is human," Fallon pointed out. "That's not our jurisdiction."

"Yeah, but with Satanism comes the potential for dark magic," Dean replied. "They could potentially release something supernatural."

"Maybe," Fallon conceded. "But that doesn't seem to be the case here. I'm just saying, that I think this case is a bust. We should find a new one."

"I'm not ready to throw the towel in yet," Dean said pulling into the hospital parking lot. "Let's check out the morgue. Maybe our victims will give us a clue." The three filed out of the car and headed for the morgue in the basement of the hospital. Fallon stole to lab coats from a house keeping closet and gave them to Sam and Dean. When they entered the morgue, there was a young man going through some files. He looked at them confused.

"Dr. Dworkin needs to see you in his office right away," Dean told the guy.

"But Dr. Dworkin's on vacation," the guy said.

"Well, he's back," Dean said bluntly. "And he's pissed, and he's screaming for you, man, so if I were you I would…" The guy quickly ran out of the morgue.

"Dr. Dworkin must be a hardass," Fallon commented as they began to search through the morgue. "Anything specific we're looking for on these victims?"

"Possibly," Dean answered. "Those Satanists in Florida marked their victims, didn't they?"

"Yeah, reversed pentacle on the forehead," Sam answered.

"So much f'd up crap happens in Florida," Dean commented passing Sam a pair of latex gloves. Fallon found the name of one of their victims on the outside of a body compartment. She curled her fingers in towards her palm and the compartment opened. Sam wheeled out the corpse. Its head was kept in a box between the victim's knees.

"That is so messed up," Fallon muttered.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "Open it."

"What?!" Fallon cried. "No way! You open it."

"Alright, Sam, how about you open it?" Dean said.

"Dean," Sam sighed.

"You two are wusses," Dean teased stepping up to the box and flipping the lid open. "Well, no pentagram."

"That's horrible," Fallon groaned. "Just close the box."

"Maybe we should, uh, you know, look in her mouth, see if those wackos stuffed anything down her throat," Dean suggested.

"You've seen Silence of the Lambs too many times," Fallon sighed.

"I'm just trying to cover all bases," Dean replied defensively.

"Yeah, here, go ahead," Sam said.

"No, you go ahead," Dean replied.

"What?" Sam questioned.

"'Put the lotion in the basket'" Dean quoted the movie.

"Right, yeah, I'm the wuss," Sam muttered. "Whatever." He grimaced as he started poking around the victim's mouth. Fallon leaned back against the wall. She didn't know how, but she was somehow feeling woozy. Sam seemed to be feeling the same way. "Dean, get me a bucket."

"You find something?" Dean asked.

"No. I'm going to puke," Sam complained examining the girl's upper gums.

"Wait, lift the lip up again," Dean ordered moving forward.

"I can't deal with this corpse and Sam's vomit, Dean," Fallon stepped in. "Let's just call this a bust and go."

"No, no, no. I think I saw something," Dean replied pulling back the lip. "What is that, a hole?"

"Maybe she had an injury," Fallon commented. Dean ran his finger over the gum. As he pressed down a sharp tooth popped out of the hole. "Or she's a freaking vampire!"

"Well this changes things," Sam commented dryly.

"You think?" Fallon and Dean replied in unison.

When night fell the trio made their way to the local dive bar. Now that they knew what they were looking for the case was starting to roll. Dean and Sam plopped down on stools at the bar and waved the bartender over.

"How's it going?" Dean asked conversationally.

"Living the dream," the bartender replied sarcastically. "What can I get for you?"

"Two beers, please," Dean said. The bartender plopped two glasses down in front of them.

"So, we're looking for some people," Sam hedged.

"Sure. Hard to be lonely," the bartender replied gruffly.

"Yeah, um, that's not what I meant," he said laying a fifty-dollar bill on the bar counter. Fallon glanced around the barroom. It was nothing special and the people in it were of the rough and tumble crowd but still very ordinary. She didn't have the feeling that there were any supernatural beings besides her in the bar, however she did have the odd feeling she was being watched. Her sharp eyes gazed the room and landed on a black man alone at a table nearby. He wasn't looking at her. In fact, he didn't seem to be paying attention to anyone in the place. Still, she had an odd feeling about him. Her attention was caught when Sam and Dean stood up from the bar. She followed them out of the bar.

"Anyone catch your attention, Fallon?" Sam asked.

Fallon paused. "I don't think anyone there was a vampire," she replied. "What did you get from the bartender?"

"Potential suspects," Dean answered. "A group of people moved into a farmhouse a few months back. They fit the normal description of vampire coven behaviors. We're going to check it out." Fallon nodded before stiffening. All the hair on the back of her neck raised up.

"Fallon?" Sam questioned noticing the tight look on her face.

"We're being followed," she said.

"Vampire?" Sam questioned. His voice was low.

"Presumably," Fallon replied. "Keep walking." The three turned the corner. Fallon spotted a tight walkway between two buildings ahead of them and pulled both boys in with her. They watched as their pursuer also turned the corner. It was the black man from the bar. He stood at the corner for awhile before turning around. Fallon quickly stepped out from between the two buildings and raised a hand, throwing the man back against a pole. Dean and Sam cornered him, and Dean raised a knife to the man's neck.

"Smile," Dean threatened.

"What?" the black man asked.

"Show us those pearly whites," Dean demanded.

The black man looked exasperated. "You want to stick that thing someplace else?" he grumbled. "I'm not a vampire." Fallon and Sam shared a surprised look. "Yeah, that's right. I heard you guys in there."

"What do you know about vampires?" Sam questioned.

"How to kill them," the man replied. "Now, seriously. That knife's making me itch." Dean started to pull away, but Sam kept him pinned. The man sighed and pulled his upper lip up. "See? Fangless. Happy?" Sam let him go. "Now, who the hell are you?"

"Dean Winchester," Dean answered. "That's Sam. The girl's name is Fallon."

"Sam and Dean Winchester," the man commented amused. "I can't believe it. I should have known though. Pretty sure you two are the only hunters keeping a ghost around for company." He stared at Fallon coolly before glancing back at the boys. "I'm Gordon. You know I met your old man once. Great hunter. I heard he passed. I'm sorry. It's big shoes, but from what I hear you guys fill 'em. Great trackers, good in a tight spot…"

"You seem to know a lot about our family," Dean said suspiciously.

"Word travels fast," Gordon replied. "You know how hunters talk."

"We try to avoid them, actually," Fallon said coolly.

"Yeah, I bet you do," Gordon replied.

Sam stepped up beside her protectively. "Those two vampires," he cut in changing the subject. "They were yours?"

"Yep," Gordon answered. "Been here two weeks."

"Did you check out that Barker farm?" Dean questioned.

"It's a bust," Gordon told them. "Just a bunch of hippie freaks."

"Where's the next then?" Dean asked.

"I got this one covered," Gordon replied dismissively. "Look, don't get me wrong. It's a real pleasure meeting you fellas, but I've been on this thing for over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin, tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it."

"We could help," Dean offered. "Fallon's awfully useful when there's multiple aggressors."

"Thanks, but uh, I'm kind of a go-it-alone type of guy," Gordon replied.

"And one that doesn't want help from a ghost," Fallon commented nastily.

"I see you're also good at reading people," Gordon said.

"We keep her around for more than one reason," Dean stated.

"I hear there's a Chupacabra two states over. You go ahead and knock yourselves out," Gordon suggested. "It was real good meeting you, though. I'll buy you a drink on the flip side." They watched him head off.

"What a jerk," Fallon huffed.

"Well, he's certainly not a ray of sun shine," Dean commented.

"Like you're one to talk," Fallon grumbled. Dean gave her a confused glance. "'We keep her around for more than one reason.' I'm not just a useful hunting device. I could leave whenever I want to."

"Who's stopping you?" Dean muttered.

"And you two were doing so well," Sam sighed. "Let's hit the road."

"Why would we do that when we have a case right here," Dean asked.

"You heard him," Sam said. "He's a 'go-it-alone type.' He doesn't want our help."

"Yeah, well, he's gonna get it," Dean replied unlocking the Impala's driver side door. "We gotta hurry if we want to catch him."

They finally tracked him down at the town mill. The three got out of the car to here the whir of some machine running. "Something tells me things aren't going according to plan," Sam said.

"We sure we want to intervene?" Fallon asked dryly. Both boys gave her a look. She rolled her eyes before popping behind the mill. Things were definitely not going according to plan. A large man, presumably a vampire, was hauling Gordon towards an electric saw that was spinning nearby. Without hesitating she raised her hand out in front of her, shoving both out of the way of the saw. Their impact loosened the vampire's grip on Gordon who quickly tried to get back on his feet. The vampire recovered quickly though and was trying to regain his grip on the hunter. Fallon moved to intervene, but Sam and Dean quickly ran around the side of the mill. Sam pulled Gordon out of the way while Dean attacked the vampire. Fallon watched as the two scuffled for a moment. When Dean finally got the vampire pinned down under the saw she turned her hand over, palms to the ground, and the saw sliced down, cutting off the vampire's head. There was a moment of silence.

"So, uh, I guess I gotta buy you that drink," Gordon huffed amused. Fallon stared horrified at the corpse of the vampire. She had just acted on adrenaline, but she felt horrible. Dean, on the other hand, looked high from the kill. She looked over at Sam. She wasn't the only one concerned.

They ended up back at the bar. Gordon bought a round of drinks before joining them at a table. Fallon had made sure to get a seat as far away from him as possible. She didn't trust him not to dump the salt on her. Sam also seemed wary of him and was sitting stone faced at the table next to her. Dean, on the other hand, acted like he had just been reunited with his old best friend from kindergarten.

"Another one bites the dust," Gordon commented.

"That's right," Dean agreed enthusiastically.

"Dean and Fallon, you have that big-ass fang one hell of a haircut," Gordon praised.

"Thank you," Dean replied smugly. Fallon smiled thinly but refrained from commenting.

"That was beautiful," Gordon said. "Absolutely beautiful." Fallon and Sam both grimaced. Dean noticed.

"You two alright?" he asked.

"Fine," Sam and Fallon replied together.

"You sure, Sammy?" Dean questioned.

"I'm fine," Sam insisted.

"Well, lighten up a little, Sammy," Gordon said.

"He's the only one who gets to call me that," Sam huffed.

"Okay. No offense meant," Gordon said quickly. "Just celebrating a little. Job well done."

"Right," Sam replied. "Well, decapitations aren't my idea pf a good time, I guess."

"Oh, c'mon man, it's not like it was human," Gordon said. "You've gotta have a little more fun with your job."

"See?" Dean exclaimed. "That's what I've been trying to tell him. Fallon too." He glanced at both of them. "You could learn a thing or two from this guy."

"I'm sure," Fallon replied before phasing back through the seat and standing up. "I'm afraid drinking is rather pointless for me these days. I'm going to head back to the motel and finish my book. It was nice meeting you, Gordon."

"Likewise," Gordon replied. She could practically feel the hostility rolling off him.

"Fallon, don't teleport away yet," Sam said standing up. "I'm going back with her. Want to toss me the key?"

"Remind me to beat that buzzkill out of you later, alright?" Dean teased tossing him the key. Sam scowled at him before walking off with Fallon to the Impala. She was happy when she finally sunk into the passenger seat.

"I hope you didn't want to stay," she said as they pulled out of the lot. "I couldn't take the bad vibes anymore. I was trying to plot a way to hide all the salt without him noticing."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, I was surprised you came with us to the bar at all," he replied. "So was Gordon."

"I didn't want to, but I'm concerned about Dean," Fallon told him. "He was a little too pleased over killing that vampire."

"Yeah. Why the electric saw?" Sam asked her.

"I wasn't thinking," Fallon replied. "I was very in the moment, but, Sam, I'm concerned. I don't think this Gordon fellow is a good influence for Dean."

"Do you think we should look into him?" Sam questioned as they pulled up to their motel.

"What is your gut telling you?" Fallon returned. Sam nodded and the two quickly made their way to their motel room. Sam used the phone to dial up the Roadhouse.

"Harvelle's Roadhouse," Ellen answered.

"Hey. Ellen, uh, this is Sam Winchester and Fallon," he greeted. "We have you on speaker. That alright?"

"Sure. It's good to hear from you," Ellen said. "You boys and Fallon are okay, aren't you?"  
"We're good, Ellen," Fallon assured her. "But we do have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"You ever run across a guy named Gordon?" Sam fished.

"Yeah, I know Gordon," Ellen replied.

"What do you know about him?" Fallon questioned.

"Well, he's a real good hunter," Ellen told them. "Why are you asking?"

"We ran into him on a job and we're kinda working with him, I guess," Sam answered.

"Don't do that, Sam," Ellen warned.

"I thought you said he was a hunter," Sam replied concerned.

"Yeah, and Hannibal Lecter's a good psychiatrist," Ellen said. "Look, he is dangerous to everyone and everything around him. And considering you have Fallon with you I'd really high tail it out of there. If he's working a job you three should just let him handle it and move on."

"Gut instinct was right," Fallon sighed. "Thanks Ellen."

"Any time," Ellen replied before hunting.

"Any idea how to get Dean out of his clutches?" Fallon inquired.

"Let's just try reasoning with him first," Sam answered. "We'll talk to him when he gets back. I'm going to grab some chips from the vending machine."

"Let me get one for you," Fallon replied. "Save yourself some change." She walked down the end of the row of motel rooms until she reached the vending machine. She glanced over the selections before deciding on the Doritos for Sam and gummy bears for her. She phased her arm through the machine and knocked the bags down from their purchase. With a satisfied smile she collected the snacks and headed back to the motel room.

She frowned as she came upon their door. It stood ajar, and she could have sworn she'd closed it behind her. Cautiously, she edged the door open and gazed around the room. Nothing looked out of place, but it was empty.

"Sam?" she called and then screamed when a rope was thrown around her, tightening at the waste before she could wriggle out of it. Pain seared her. The rope was covered in salt. As it weakened her she fell to her knees. A hand suddenly grabbed her by her hair and yanked her head back. She found herself staring up at a vampire.

"You have bad timing," he said before wrenching her jaw open and pouring salt down her throat. She blacked out from the pain.

* * *

 **Sam's P.O.V**

Sam slowly rose out of the fog of unconsciousness and gazed around him. He felt a spasm of panic as he realized he didn't know where he was. In the room with him was a large dining room table, but nothing else. He was too far away from the window to see outside it. Whoever took him really didn't want him to know where he was. He stiffened when he heard a slight groan towards the right of him. He snapped his head around to see who it was.

"Fallon!" he cried. "Fallon?!" Fallon was half sitting in a chair, her head resting on her shoulder. Her auburn hair was covering her face, but he could tell she was knocked out. He noted the salt circle around the chair she was sitting in. To his surprise she also had ropes securing her arms to the chair. Seeing the burns around her wrists he realized whoever had taken them had soaked the rope in salt. He also realized that whoever had taken them had known who they were.

His attention was drawn away from Fallon when a large man entered the room. Sam recognized him as the bartender. He growled at Sam his fangs extended. Sam tried to stand up, but he was also tied down to the chair. The vampire continued to advance towards him.

"Wait!" a female voice called from behind him. "Step back, Eli." Eli did as he was told, and suddenly a female vampire was standing before Sam. She pulled off his gag.

"My name's Lenore," she told him. "I'm not going to hurt you. We just need to talk."

"Talk?" Yeah, okay, but I might have a tough time paying attention to much besides Eli's teeth and my friend's unconscious body…spirit."

"He won't hurt you either," Lenore said. "You have my word. And your friend will be fine. There's only enough salt on that rope to keep her from using her powers. It's causing her more discomfort than pain."

"Listen lady, you're not the first vampire I've met," Sam replied dubiously.

"We're not like the others," Lenore said. "We don't kill humans, and we don't drink their blood. We haven't for a long time."

"What, is this some kind of joke?" Sam scoffed.

"Notice you're still alive," Lenore pointed out before turning to look at Fallon. "Ghosts kill more people than vampires do. And yet, you haven't hunted her. You trust her."

"Fallon's different," Sam replied.

"So are we," Lenore insisted.

Sam frowned. "Correct me if I'm wrong here, but shouldn't you be starving to death?"

"The cows," Fallon cut in. Her voice sounded week. "They're feeding on the cows."

"Fallon!" Sam exclaimed. "Are you okay."

Fallon gazed over at him. Her blue eyes looked a little glazed over, but she seemed to be waking up quickly now. "I'm fine," she assured him before turning to Lenore. "Feeding on the cattle is clever. I bet you get to stay put longer."

"It's not ideal," Lenore admitted. "In fact, it's disgusting. But… it allows us to get by."

"Okay, uh…why?" Sam asked confused.

"Survival," Lenore answered simply. "No deaths, no missing locals, no reason for people like you to come looking for people like us. We blend in. Our kind is practically extinct. Turned out we weren't quite as high up on the food chain as we imagined."

"Why are we explaining ourselves to this killer!" Eli suddenly snapped.

"Eli!" Lenore scowled.

"We choke on cow's blood so that none of them suffer," Eli griped. "Tonight they murdered Conrad and they celebrated."

"Sam and I weren't exactly celebrating," Fallon cut in defensively.

"Eli, that's enough," Lenore said softly. "What's done is done. We're leaving this town tonight."

"Then why did you bring us here?" Sam asked. "Why are you even talking to us?"

"Believe me, I'd rather not," Lenore replied. "But I know your kind. Once you have the scent you'll keep tracking us. It doesn't matter where we go. Hunters will find us."

"So you're asking us not to follow you," Sam said.

"We have a right to live," Lenore stated. "We're not hurting anyone."

"I see no harm in letting them go," Fallon said.

Sam shook his head. "You keep saying that, but give me one good reason why I should believe you," he said.

"Fine," Lenore sighed. "You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to let you go." Sam blinked in surprise. Lenore glanced over at Eli. "Take him back. Not a mark on him." Eli lifted a black sack to cover his face. Sam noticed no one was moving towards Fallon.

"What about Fallon?"

"I'll untie her and break the salt circle before we leave," Lenore told him. "To take her back we would need to feed her salt again. It would do her more harm than good."

"I'll be fine, Sam," Fallon said. "It's not like they can kill me." Sam nodded and allowed them to pull the sack over his head before being dragged out to a truck and being driven away.

* * *

Fallon sighed dramatically as she waited for either Sam and Dean to come get her or for the vampires to release her before they fled. She had already counted all the cracks in the ceiling and plotted several impossible escape attempts. Impossible because the salt circle was a hindrance. She didn't know if these vampires knew about her previous escape from a salt circle or if it was just a coincidence, but they had placed her too far away from the window for any breeze to blow away the salt. At least they had untied the ropes from her wrists. She sighed again.

"Is there really a need to be so dramatic?" Lenore asked standing in the doorway carrying a large cardboard box.

"I'm bored," Fallon said. "You could have at least kept me prisoner in a room with a T.V."

Lenore rolled her eyes. "There's only one box left after this," she told her. "And then we'll be leaving shortly after. You'll be free within an hour." Fallon watched her head for the front door before slumping in her seat. It was going to be a long hour. She frowned when she heard Lenore scream.

"Lenore?" she called. She stared towards the doorway and watched as she saw Lenore being dragged back into the house. As they came closer she realized who it was. "Gordon."

Gordon glanced at her as he dragged Lenore into the room and began to tie her to a chair. "Glad you're here," he said. "Now I don't have to hunt your grave down. The second I'm done getting this vampire here to let me know where her nest mates are I'll be turning my attention on you. You can tell me where your grave is."

"That is never happening," Fallon spat angrily.

"Oh, I think you can find I can be very persuasive," Gordon replied pulling the knife out of Lenore's chest and then slashing her across the cheek with it. "Want to tell me where your friends are?"

"Never," Lenore replied.

"I see we get to do this the fun way," Gordon replied and cut her again. Fallon clenched her eyes shut as he began to torture the vampire. Stuck in a salt circle, with nothing around to help her break out of it, she was forced to listen as Lenore cried at each cut he gave. She only opened her eyes again when she heard two people rushing towards them. She glanced over at the doorway and saw Sam and Dean. Gordon saw them too.

"Sam, Dean," he greeted. "Come on in."

"Hey Gordon," Dean said. "What's going on?"

"Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man's blood," Gordon answered breezily. "She's going to tell us where all her little friends are. Wanna help?"

"Look man…"

"Grab a knife," Gordon said. "I was just about to start in on the fingers." He sliced Lenore's arm again.

"Stop it!" Fallon cried.

"Hey, let's all just chill, huh?" Dean tried to intervene.

"I'm completely chill," Gordon said.

"Gordon, put the knife down," Sam ordered frostily.

"Sounds like it's Sam and Fallon here needs to chill," Gordon commented.

"Oh, I'll show you chill," Fallon hissed.

"Just step away from her, alright?" Sam snapped.

"You're right," Gordon said stepping back from Lenore. "I'm wasting my time here. This bitch will never talk. Might as well put her out of her misery." He pulled out a huge knife. "I just sharpened it so it's completely humane." Sam quickly broke the salt circle and Fallon flew up out of her seat and shoved Gordon back from Lenore. Sam got in-between the other hunter and Lenore.

"I'm letting her go," Sam declared.

"You're not doing a dam thing," Gordon growled.

"Hey, let's talk about this," Dean urged.

"What's there to talk about?" Gordon asked. "It's like I said Dean. No shades of gray."

"You are so naïve," Fallon stated. "There are always shades of grey. There is no black and white in this world."

"You no longer belong in this world," Gordon spat.

"Gordon, I hear what you're saying," Dean said drawing the hunter's attention away from Fallon. "And I know how you feel."

"Do you?" Gordon questioned doubtfully.

"That vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but this one…"

"Killed my sister?" Gordon laughed darkly. "That filthy fang didn't kill my sister. It turned her. It made her one of them. So I hunted her down, and I killed her myself."

"What?" Dean asked horrified.

"It wasn't my sister anymore," Gordon explained. "It wasn't human. I didn't blink. And neither would you."

"So you knew all along, then?" Sam questioned. "You knew they weren't killing anyone. And you just didn't care."

"You know, you're the only real monster I see in this room," Fallon commented.

"Oh, come on!" Gordon cried. "It doesn't matter if they aren't hunting humans! It doesn't change what they are. And I can prove it?" He darted forward and grabbed Sam's arm before cutting it with his knife. He held Sam's bleeding arm in front of Lenore. Her fangs extended.

"Hey!" Dean cried. Fallon was trying to muster up the strength to blast Gordon into the wall but the salt she'd been force fed earlier had weakened her.

"You think she's so different?" Gordon questioned. "Still want to save her? They're all the same. Evil."

"You're wrong," Fallon said watching as Lenore regained control of herself and turned her face away from Sam's arm. Fallon gave up trying to use her powers and ran at Gordon, knocking him back and releasing his hold on Sam.

Sam took a few steps away from Gordon. "We're done here."

"Sam, get her out of here," Dean ordered. Sam nodded his head before picking up Lenore. Fallon followed them out. Sam carried her over to her own truck.

"Are the others already gone?" Fallon asked.

"They would have fled once they noticed a hunter was here," Lenore said weakly.

"Are you going to be able to drive out of here on your own right now?" Sam asked placing Lenore down on her feet. She was able to stay upright, but just barely.

"Go back with Dean," Fallon said to Sam. "I'll drive her out and see if we can't find a cow or something for her to feed on."

"That won't be necessary," a deep voice said. Fallon spun around and saw Eli followed by a few others. "We can take her from here." Fallon and Sam nodded, backing away from Lenore. They watched as the vampires drove off. When they had driven out of sight they both turned back to the farmhouse. When they re-entered the dining room they saw that Gordon was tied to a chair.

"Did we miss anything?" Sam asked.

"Nah," Dean replied. Lenore get out okay?"

"They all did," Fallon answered.

"Then I guess our work here is done," Dean said walking towards them.

"What are we doing about him?" Fallon questioned.

"We'll call someone in two or three days to come untie him," Dean replied. They left the farmhouse. Fallon got back to the Impala before the boys and phased into the backseat. She picked up her book and began to read. She wasn't even a paragraph in when Dean snatched the book from her.

"Hey!"

"Time to socialize," he told her. "If I knew you would turn into such a recluse when Sam bought that book I never would have let him."

"I deserve to continue reading," Fallon exclaimed. "I was just held captive for about three hours."

"You okay?" Dean asked.

"I will be when you give me the book back," Fallon replied. Dean laughed and tossed her the book, losing her page in the process. "You're a jerk."

"Maybe, but I'm your jerk," Dean said.

"Let me know if you two want to get a room," Sam sighed from the passenger seat.

"Not in a million years," Dean and Fallon both replied bright smiles on both of their faces.

"Yeah. Sure," Sam muttered. "Let's go find a real job, shall we?"

"I guess we can check in on that Chupacabra" Dean said as they drove away from the farmhouse.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Good news for those of you who enjoy this fanfic. I am only working on this fic at the moment. The rest are on hiatus until further notice. My life is too busy right now to keep up with the number of fics I have running so I picked this one to continue working on. I am hoping to finish up Fallon's adventures with the boys in season two of Supernatural by the end of this year. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for reading. If you have time please leave a review. They help motivate me.

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing from Supernatural. All rights belong to the writers and creators of the show.

* * *

Just once Fallon wished they could get through a car ride without fighting. This time at least it wasn't her and Dean at each other's throats, but Dean and Sam. Actually, Fallon considered it worse when the two brothers fought. Not because it was sad to see to family members who were so close fighting, but because they would try to drag her into it. And right on que, Dean did.

"It's irrational, is what it is," Dean huffed. "Come on, Fallon, tell him."

Fallon sighed. "You can't expect me to come to bat for you on this one, Dean. Considering I have a grave in a cemetery I think it's nice that people would want to honor my memory."

"And anyway, Dean, no one asked you to come," Sam said.

"Why don't we swing by the roadhouse instead?" Dean suggested. "We haven't heard anything on the demon lately. We should be hunting that son of a bitch down."

"That's a good idea," Sam replied. "You should go. Just drop me off, I'll hitch a ride and meet you there tomorrow."

"We'll both meet you there," Fallon said. "I don't feel like hiding in the kitchen until closing time."

Dean snorted. "Right. Stuck with those people, making awkward small talk until you two show up? No thanks."

"Well, then it seems like you've lost," Fallon stated as they pulled into the cemetery. "Just suck it up. I doubt we'll be here long."

The three stepped out of the car. Sam immediately headed for his mother's grave while Dean took off in another direction. Fallon wandered around aimlessly. She looked over the nearby graves admiring some of the flower arrangements the deceased's loved ones had left for them. She remembered driving around to look at all the flowers left on the graves during Memorial Day weekend with her mother, grandmother, and sister. They did it every year.

Unlike some people, cemeteries had never made Fallon feel uncomfortable or freaked out. They were peaceful to her. She and her sister had found ways to have plenty of fun while their mother and grandmother attended the graves. Sometimes they would walk around feeding the unusually fat squirrels. Fallon's favorite thing to do when she was a small child though was to climb the one set of stairs that led up to one section of the cemetery. At the top of the stairs were rows of soldiers' graves. As a child the stairs had seemed almost insurmountable. Fallon also remembered thinking as a child that if she climbed up them at the right time of day she'd find the stairs led to heaven.

Looking around this cemetery she didn't see any unusual landmarks or ornate gravestones, but she felt the same peace she had at her own. At least, until her eyes landed on Dean. He was standing some distance away from her. She could see the tension in his shoulders. She walked over to offer some comfort but paused when she reached his side. He was standing in front of someone's grave. It was a recent burial, but it looked like someone had done overkill on digging out the grave. The grass and flowers around the grave were completely dead, along with a few trees.

"If I was the family of this poor girl I'd be pissed," Fallon commented. "I can't believe no one's done anything about this. Where is the groundskeeper?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Dean muttered and walked off. Fallon shook her head before heading back to Sam.

"You okay?" she asked when she reached him.

He smiled down at her. "I'm fine," Sam said. "Have you seen Dean?"

"Yeah, he went off to talk to the groundskeeper," Fallon replied. "You should see this one girl's grave. Everything around it is dead. Someone should be taking care of it."

"Whose grave was it?" Sam asked curiously.

"Angela Mason," Dean answered coming up to them. "She was a student at the local collage. The funeral was three days ago."

"And?" Sam inquired.

"And?" Dean repeated. "Did you see her grave? Everything dead around it in a perfect circle? You don't think that's a little weird?"

"Well, there's usually some damage when they dig a grave," Fallon said. "I just thought whoever did it went overboard."

"Maybe the groundskeeper went a little agro with the pesticide," Sam suggested.

"I asked him. No pesticide. No chemicals," Dean said. "Nobody can explain it."

"Well, what do you think it is?" Fallon asked.

"I don't know. Unholy ground, maybe?" Dean replied.

"Un…"

"What?" Dean cut Sam off. "If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground. Remember, the farm outside of Cedar Rapids?"

"Yeah, bu.."

"Could be the sign of a demonic presence, or the Angela girl's spirit, if it's powerful enough." Fallon and Sam shot each other a look. Dean looked annoyed. "Well, don't get too excited, you might pull something."

"Dean, I don't feel any other presence here," Fallon said. "I know everyone thinks cemeteries are filled with ghosts, but I've never been in a haunted one. I think you're looking for something that's not here. What else is this potential hunt about?"

"What else would it be about?" Dean questioned.

"Forget it," Fallon sighed, not in the mood to fight. "Let's just look into this."

"The girl's dad works in town," Dean told them. "He's a professor at the school." He headed back towards the Impala.

"How long should we humor this?" Fallon questioned.

"Let's just see how far he's going to take this," Sam replied and they both followed after Dean.

Fallon entered the father's office before the boys could knock on the door. She glanced around, but didn't see anything unusual. More importantly, she didn't feel the presence of another spirit. She turned around to face the boys as the professor let them in and shook her head to let them know there wasn't another ghost in the room. Sam made small talk with Angela's father while Dean scoped out the room. He pulled a book off a shelf.

"This is an unusual book," Dean commented.

"It's ancient Greek," the professor explained. "I teach a course."

"So, a car accident," Dean said changing the subject, "That's horrible."

"Angie was only a mile away from home when…"

"It's got to be hard," Dean said. "Losing someone like that. Sometimes it's like they're still around. Almost like you can still sense their presence. You ever feel anything like that?"

"I do, as a matter of fact," the professor replied.

"That's perfectly normal, Dr. Mason," Sam assured him. Shortly after they left.

"Could someone please explain to me why that was necessary," Fallon said as they got into the Impala.

"Well, I guess you haven't been paying attention in the last year, Fallon, but it's basic hunting 101," Dean replied. "We always interview those closest to the suspected spirit."

"Well, I don't suspect any spirit," Fallon said as they pulled up to their motel. It had only been a block away from the college. "I've gotten no indication that there's another ghost around."

"Well, maybe it's something else," Dean said.

"I don't think so Dean," Sam joined in.

"I'm telling you guys, there's something going on here," Dean insisted. "We just haven't found it yet."

"Dean, so far you've got a patch of dead grass and nothing," Sam commented dryly.

"Well something turned that grave into unholy ground!" Dean exclaimed.

"According to you," Fallon replied. "Why can't it just be some weird, natural occurrence for once?"

"Fallon's right," Sam said. "There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly vengeful spirit material. You heard her father."

"Yeah, well, maybe Daddy doesn't know everything there is to know about his little angel, huh?" Dean snapped.

"That's enough, Dean!" Fallon said. "We shouldn't have even got to check out that poor man. There's no case here. Let's go."

"You just want to bail?" Dean replied. "Without even figuring out what's going on?"

"I think I know what's going on here," Sam said. "It's the only reason I went along with you this far. Fallon too."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked.

"This is about Mom's grave," Sam said.

"That's got nothing to do with it," Dean scoffed.

"You wouldn't step within a hundred yards of it," Sam pointed out. "Look, maybe you're imagining a hunt when there isn't one so you don't have to think about Mom. Or Dad." Dean glowered at him. Sam sighed. "You wanna take another swing? Go ahead, if it'll make you feel better."

"No one is taking a swing at anyone," Fallon cut in stepping between the boys. "Let's just wrap up the night here and leave tomorrow." Dean glanced at the both of them before grabbing his coat.

"Dean, where are you going?" Sam asked.

"I'm going for a drink," Dean replied. "Alone."

"Want me to keep an eye on him?" Fallon asked once they heard the car pull away.

"No. That'll just piss him off if he sees you," Sam sighed. "We'll see what he's like when he comes back."

"Hopefully not drunk off his ass," Fallon muttered.

Fallon had gotten bored in the room with Sam. He had immediately plopped down in front of the T.V. but she wasn't interested in anything that was on. After an hour of horrible television shows she had gone for a walk around the building but no one had been out and about for her to people watch. After the third trip around the motel she finally came to a stop outside of their room. She noticed with some interest that a child had at some point drawn some flowers and rainbows with chalk. She smiled brightly when she saw a piece of blue chalk had been left behind.

She grabbed the piece of chalk and drew a few smiley faces on the sidewalk. She added some flowers to the previously drawn bouquet. She wrote her name in print and as her signature. She stood back and admired her work. She glanced around once more to see if anyone had been watching, but the parking lot was empty.

Fallon, quickly made a hopscotch square. Lacking a rock she used the piece of chalk. It landed on eight. She didn't care how childish the game was. She took it seriously. So seriously she didn't notice Dean pull back up to the building.

"Hopscotch?" he said as he got out of the car. "Really?"

Fallon glanced up from her game, putting her foot down on the square with the chalk. She scowled when her foot sent the piece of chalk rolling. "You just made me lose."

Dean laughed. "Did you draw all of this?"

"No. Some kid left the chalk behind," Fallon replied. "I just added to it."

"Yeah, well, it's time to stop messing around," Dean replied. "Let's go inside." She followed him into the hotel room. When they stepped in the T.V. was still on, but it was turned off suspiciously quick as they entered the room. Fallon noticed Sam looked a little flushed.

"Hey," he greeted guiltily.

Dean raised his eyebrows and glanced between Sam and the T.V. "Awkward."

"Really Sam?" Fallon sighed. "At least you waited until I left."

"Well, I wasn't going to…" Sam sighed before turning his attention pointedly to his brother. "Where the hell were you?"

"Working my imaginary case," Dean replied.

"Yeah? And?" Sam questioned.

"Well, you were right. I didn't find much," Dean replied seriously before his expression turned smug. "Yeah, except, Angela's boyfriend died last night. Slit his own throat. But, you know, that's normal. Uh, let's see, what else? Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I'm sure that's just me transferring my own feelings."

"Okay, I get it," Sam sighed. "Maybe there is something going on here."

"Maybe?!" Dean exclaimed. "I know how to do my job, despite what you might think."

"Let's just get back to the hunt," Fallon cut in. "We need to check out this guy's apartment."

"I just came from there," Dean told them. "Pile of dead plants, just like the cemetery. Hell, dead goldfish too."

"Aww. Poor little guy," Fallon cried.

"So you think it's unholy ground?" Sam questioned as Dean rolled his eyes at Fallon's comment.

"Maybe," Dean answered. "I'm still not getting that powerful angry spirit vibe from Angela."

"There's no other ghost in town besides me," Fallon said for what felt like the millionth time in the past 24 hours.

Dean pulled a garishly pink book out of his jacket. "I've been reading this," he said.

"You stole the girl's diary?" Sam said.

"That's sacrilegious!" Fallon cried horrified. "You can't read someone's diary! It's full of their most private thoughts and feelings! Their dreams! Their greatest fears and hopes!"

"You want to settle down there?" Dean replied. "It's not like I stole your diary."

Fallon snorted. "Like I ever had a diary," she said scathingly. "Only losers actually keep a diary. Especially past middle school. My life was way to interesting to fit inside some stupid book. Girls who keep diaries are just trying to lie to themselves that their lives are actually interesting when in fact an ant's life is more interesting than theirs."

"Wow, sometimes I swear you walked right out of 'Mean Girls'," Dean whistled.

"Anyway," Sam cut in giving Fallon a look, "did you learn anything from Angela's diary?"

"Just that she seems a little too nice," Dean replied.

"So what do you want to do?" Sam asked.

"Keep digging," Dean replied. "We need to talk to more of her friends."

"Got any names?" Sam asked.

Dean smiled broadly. "Are you kidding me? I have her bestest friend in the whole wide world."

"So who do you want to start with?" Sam asked. "I'm sure you've read it already."

"I say we start with her good old buddy, Neil," Dean replied.

The next day they found the address to Neil's house and knocked on his door. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"We're grief counselors from the local college," Sam told him. "We wanted to check in with those closest to Angela. Her death was so unexpected. We realize it may be hard to handle."

Neil gave them a funny look. "I didn't realize the college employed grief counselors."

"Well, you know the drill. You talk, we listen," Dean said hurriedly. "Or maybe throw in a little therapeutic collage, whatever jumpstarts the healing."

"I'm pretty sure collages are only used when it's children's trauma, Dean," Fallon commented.

"Well, I think I'm okay, thanks," Neil tried to brush them off.

"You heard what happened to Matt Harrison, right?" Sam asked. Neil nodded. "We just wanted to make sure you were okay. Grief can make people do crazy things."

"Really crazy things," Fallon said. "I've seen it happen. My Uncle Alfonzo had his cat stuffed. Not all that abnormal, except for the fact that he takes it on vacations with him." She laughed at Dean's face.

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened to him," Neil said. "I am. But if Matt killed himself it wasn't because of grief."

"No? Then why?" Sam asked.

"Guilt," Fallon answered for him.

"It was guilt," Neil confirmed. "Angela's death was Matt's fault and he knew it."

"How was Matt responsible?" Sam asked.

"Well, she really loved the guy, but the night of the accident she walked in on him with another girl," Neil replied.

"I know that feeling," Fallon sighed. "Not pleasant."

"She was really torn up, that's why she crashed the car," Neil explained. "Look, I gotta get ready for work, so… thanks for the concern, but seriously, I'll be okay."

The three of them walked away from the house. "Okay, what is up with your Uncle Alfonzo?" Dean asked. "You're always saying crazy stuff about him."

"I have some weird relatives," Fallon replied. "I mean it's bound to happen in a big family."

"Can we get back to the case please," Sam asked.

"The vengeful spirit theory is starting to make a little more sense," Dean said. "I mean, hell hath no fury…"  
"Except that I don't feel another spirit," Fallon pointed out.

"You haven't always noticed another ghost around," Sam said. "Maybe this girl's spirit isn't strong enough for you to pick up."

"But it was strong enough to leave a circle of dead plants in the cemetery?" Fallon questioned.

"Well, assuming it is a ghost, now that she got her revenge on Matt, do you think it's over?" Sam asked.

"Well, there's one way to be sure," Dean replied. "We burn the bones."

"I think you're missing a fine detail there, Dean," Fallon said.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"Angela's only been dead for a week," Fallon said.

"So?"

"So there's not gonna be any bones," Sam told him. "There's gonna be a ripe, rotting body in the coffin."

"Since when are you afraid to get dirty?" Dean mocked.

"This is so wrong," Fallon complained as she watched the boys clear dirt off Angela's coffin.

"You've seen us do this a hundred times," Dean said. "Hell, you've helped."

"Yeah, for people who have been dead for years and years!" Hope cried.

"Yeah, well, at least this doesn't happen often," Sam huffed and they pulled the coffin up out of the hole.

Dean motioned for Sam to open it. "Ladies first."

"I can't look," Fallon moaned turning away from the coffin. She heard the coffin lid open, but there was nothing after that. No movement or the sound of flames crackling. "What's wrong?" Dean placed his hands on each side of her waist and spun her around to face the coffin. She braced herself to see the dead body but then blinked, her eyes opening wide. "Where's Angela?"

"Now that's the million dollar question," Dean replied unamused. He shook his head. "They buried the body four days ago."

"There's no body in that coffin," Fallon stated.

"Yeah, Fallon, we've noticed," Dean replied.

"Then why am I the only one freaking out over here!" Fallon cried.

"Hey, look!" Sam said. He was moving his flashlight over the inside lid of the coffin.

"Is it an Egyptian curse?" Fallon asked nervously. "Are we dealing with a mummy?"  
"I've seen these kind of symbols before," Dean said after inspecting them. He looked furious as he storms away from the grave.

"Dean, we can't just leave. We have to…" but he was already out of hearing. Sam sighed.

"Don't worry. I've got it," Fallon told him. She raised her arms up and levitated the coffin over the whole before carefully lowering it back down. Then, with a snap of her fingers the dirt piled back on top of it.

"Why did we manually dig this up if you could do that?" Sam asked annoyed.

"You didn't ask for help," Fallon replied as they began to rush after Dean. They were both surprised that Dean hadn't just left them at the cemetery.

"Care to explain the rush?" Sam asked as they got in.

"Those symbols in the coffin," Dean replied as he pulled out of the cemetery, "I saw them in Angela's dad's office."

"So you think he raised her from the dead?" Sam asked.

"He's looking like a pretty good suspect to me," Dean replied. He sped through town to the man's house. He left Sam and Fallon in the dust as he stormed up the sidewalk to the front door and started pounding on it.

"Dean, take it easy, okay?" Sam urged.

Dr. Mason opened the door. "You're Angie's friends, right?" he said.

"We need to talk," Dean replied bluntly.

"Dean," Fallon scolded, but his expression didn't soften.

"Well, then, come in," Dr. Mason waved them through the door.

Dean immediately set in on him. "You teach Ancient Greek. Tell me," Dean said unfolding a piece of paper he'd copied the symbols they'd seen at the cemetery on, "what are these?"

Dr. Mason shook his head. "I don't understand. You said this had something to do with Angela." Fallon glanced over the man. He looked tired and sick from grief, yes, but not lost in it. He was missing his daughter definitely, but Fallon felt sure he had done nothing to try and bring her back.

"We shouldn't be here," Fallon said. "He didn't do anything."

Dean ignored her and kept his attention on the professor. "Humor me."

"They're part of an ancient Greek divination ritual," Dr. Mason explained.

"Used for necromancy, right?" Dean pushed.

"That's right," Dr. Mason confirmed.

"See, before we came over here we stopped by the library and did a little homework ourselves," Dean said. "Apparently, they used rituals like this one for communicating with the dead. Even bringing corpses back to life. Full-on zombie action."

"Yes," Dr. Mason said. "I mean, according to the legends. Now, what's all this about?"

"I think you know," Dean replied.

"Dean," Sam said. Fallon could tell from the look on his face that he agreed with her. Dean was looking at the wrong person.

But Dean was not about to stop. "Look, I get it okay? There are people that I would give anything to see again, but what gives you the right?!"

"Dean, stop!" Fallon urged. "It's not him who…"

"What are you talking about?" Dr. Mason asked confused.

Fallon was reaching out to place a calming hand on Dean's shoulder when he burst out, "What's dead should stay dead!" She pulled her hand to her side quickly, his words like a slap. She had known when she started working with Sam and Dean that the latter had felt that way about her. Though he had been sympathetic to her situation he had wanted her to move on by herself or burn her bones.

But over time she had thought they had grown closer. They argued still, but lately those fights were just for entertainment. Sometimes she even picked a fight with him for fun. Fallon thought they had finally become friends. But after hearing that declaration she realized she had been wrong. Dean still resented her presence. She felt devastated at the thought that he only tolerated her presence because she was useful. She began to see all of their recent interactions in a new light. She was so busy cataloging this revelation that she almost missed the fact that Dean and Sam were leaving. She only noticed when Dr. Mason reached through her to grab the phone she was standing in front of.

She followed Sam and Dean out but stayed at a distance behind them. She could hear they were fighting but she wasn't paying attention to what the fight was about. She assumed it was related to the case. Fallon could suddenly care less about the case. She had started following Sam and Dean around because they were the only people who could see and interact with her. After a year of loneliness she was willing to do anything if it meant she had someone to talk to. But quickly, she had built a genuine friendship with Sam. Her reason for hanging around the boys stopped being about filling up the hole inside her carved out by her year of isolation and instead became about enjoying herself with her friends. That's how she viewed them.

Fallon was sure that Sam also saw her as a friend, but she knew now that Dean never could. As much as the boys made her life after death bearable, she couldn't force her presence on someone who felt so strongly against her own existence. She began to debate what her next step would be when she felt a tug on her arm. She glanced up to see Dean.

"We have to go, Fallon," he said. "The cops will be here any minute."

"They can't see me," Fallon replied woodenly.

Dean gave her a funny look. "Yeah, well, they can see Sam and me just fine."

"Maybe you should finish the case without me," Fallon said.

"Why?" Dean asked.

"You guys, let's go!" Sam cried from beside the Impala. "You can continue your conversation when we get back to the motel."

Dean looked back and Fallon. "You heard him," he said grabbing her hand and pulling her along. Fallon phased her hand out of his grip, but followed behind him. She'd finish the case she decided. And then she would leave.

Back at the motel room they were trying to find a way to kill a zombie. Well, Dean and Sam were. Fallon was aimlessly perusing through a book, but she wasn't taking anything in. She was trying to decide if she would tell the boys goodbye before leaving or if she would just disappear. She was leaning towards the latter.

"We can't just waste it with a head shot?" Dean sighed.

"Dude, you've been watching way too many Romero flicks," Sam replied.

"You're telling me there's no lore on how to smoke 'em?" Dean said.

"No, Dean, I'm telling you there's too much!" Sam exclaimed. "I mean, there's a hundred different legends on the walking dead, but they all have different methods for killing them. Some say setting them on fire, uh, one said feeding their hearts to wild dogs. That's my personal favorite. I mean, who knows what's real and what's myth."

"Is there anything they have in common?" Dean asked.

"A few said silver might work," Sam sighed.

"Silver's a start," Dean said. "Now we just have to find Angela."

"And how are we going to do that?" Sam asked.

"We figure out who brought her back," Dean replied.

"Any ideas?"

"I think if it's not her dad it might be that guy, Neil," Dean said.

"Neil?" Sam questioned.

"Yep," Dean replied pulling out Angela's diary and flipping it open to a marked off page. "Neil's a real shoulder to cry on, he so understands what I've been through with Matt.' There's more like that in here. It's got unrequited duckie love written all over it."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean he brought her back from the dead," Sam pointed out.

"Did I mention he's Professor Mason's TA?" Dean added smugly. "Has access to all the same books."

"Let's follow our lead," Sam said. The boys walked out of the motel room but returned about two minutes later.

"Uh… Fallon?" Dean said. "We've got a suspect."

"Then you better go check him out," Fallon replied not putting her book down.

Sam crossed the room and took it off her. "Fallon, are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Fallon told him.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked. "Because…"

"Normally you're miss chatty Cathy, but you've barely said a word in two hours," Dean stated.

"Dean!" Sam cried.

"It's fine, Sam," Fallon said forcing a smile. "I'm just not sure about this whole zombie thing."

"You said you didn't sense another ghost," Dean said.

"Not a ghost, but I think we're dealing with a mummy," Fallon said. She didn't really. She just wanted to get the boys' focus off of her so she could disappear more easily.

"I'm fairly certain mummies were an Ancient Egyptian thing, not an Ancient Greek one," Sam pointed out. "I'm also pretty sure you know that." Fallon did. She had been a history major.

"Yeah, well, if it was a zombie shouldn't it have eaten Matt's brain?" Fallon questioned. "Or be turning other people into zombies. Both boys laughed.

"That's only in the movies, Fallon" Dean chuckled.

"Oh," Fallon said. "Well, how was I supposed to know?"

"You weren't," Sam told her. "Now let's get going. Angela may not be able to make more zombies but she can still kill people."

"Yeah, and we need you with us in case she does attack anyone," Dean said. "You can blast her across the room."

Fallon let them into Neil's house when their suspect didn't answer his doorbell. Together the three started walking down a dark hallway in the house.

"Hello? Neil?" Dean called out. "It's your grief counselors! We've come to hug!"

"Dean," Fallon sighed, "could you try and take this seriously? There's a zombie on the loose. What if she hears you?"  
"I'm not worried about it," Dean replied pulling a gun out of his jacket pocket.

"Silver bullets?" Sam inquired.

"Yeah, enough to make her rattle like a change purse," Dean said.

"If you were a good shot you'd only have to use one," Fallon muttered under her breath. The further they moved into the home the more certain they became the Neil was the whack job who'd brought Angela back from the dead. A few dead plants beside a closed door confirmed it. Sam opened the door revealing a set of stairs that led down to a basement. Fallon went first in case Angela attacked but the basement was empty.

"Well, it looks like a zombie pen to me," Dean commented.

"An empty one," Sam pointed out. "You think Angela's going after somebody?"

"Nah, I think she went out to rent beaches," Dean replied sarcastically.

"Look, smartass, she might kill someone," Sam snapped. "We gotta find her."

"Yeah, alright," Dean sighed. "She clipped Matt because he was cheating, right?"

"Yeah?"

"The only person a girl hates more than the person who cheated on her is the person that person cheated on them with," Fallon said. "Trust me. I know."

"Well, does her diary mention who the other girl was?" Sam asked.

"No," Dean replied. "But when I talked to Angela's roommate she was really broken up over Matt's death. I mean, like, really broken up."

"Okay," Fallon sighed. "Let's go save this slutty bitch's life." She teleported out of the basement and back to the Impala.

Dean gave shot her a look in the rearview mirror as he slid into the car. "Who cheated on you?" he asked.

"Can this conversation wait until later?" Sam said. "We've got a zombie on the loose."

"Well, don't you want to know?" Dean asked.

"He already knows, Dean," Fallon snapped. "Start driving."

They booked it to Angela's old apartment, but not before she did.

"Why are we always one step behind?" Fallon groaned as she blasted open the door. They barreled towards the sound of two people fighting and saw Angela was about to stab her roommate with some scissors. Dean raised his gun and blasted a few bullets into Angela. Angela screamed before rushing out an open window.

Fallon followed after her but Angela was faster. Fallon could have teleported to wherever it was she was running off too but without a way to kill her there would be no point. She gave up the chase. With an aggravated sigh she turned around and nearly collided with Dean.

"Sorry," he gasped, panting for breath.

"Don't worry about it," Fallon told him.

"Did you get her?" Sam asked joining them.

"No," Dean replied. "That dead chick can run."

"So what now?" Sam asked.

"Well, we know who brought her back to life," Fallon said. "I think it's time we have a chat with Neil."

"Alright, and while we're on our way why don't you two see if you can find a way to kill her," Dean suggested as they got back in the car.

"The silver bullets did something, right?" Sam inquired.

"Yeah, something, but not enough," Dean huffed. "What else have you got?"

"I read something about nailing the undead back in their grave beds?" Fallon replied.

"Yeah. Yeah, I read that too!" Sam said. "It's probably where the whole vampire staking lore came from."

"Seriously?" Dean asked.

"Well, we could always try feeding her heart to wild dogs," Fallon said. "That would make Sam happy."

"Hilarious," Sam replied before turning to Dean. "I don't really see another option here, Dean."

"How the hell are we going to get Angela back to the cemetery?" Dean asked.

"No idea," Sam replied.

"I don't suppose reasoning with her would work?" Fallon suggested hopefully.

"Would it work for you?" Dean asked. Fallon tensed. Dean nodded his head. "Exactly."

"Let's just see what Neil has to say," Sam said as they pulled up to his house.

As it turned out Neil wasn't at his home. Fallon convinced the boys to drive to the college. She thought he probably had an office there and after some looking around she was proven right. The three stormed into his office. Neil's eyes widened in surprise.

"What are you guys doing here?" he asked.

"You know, I've heard of people doing some pretty desperate things to get laid, but you take the cake," Dean commented.

"Who are you guys?" Neil asked.

"You might want to ask Angela that question," Dean replied coolly.

"What?" Neil questioned.

"We know what you did," Sam told him. "The ritual. Everything."

"You're crazy," Neil scoffed.

"We're the crazy ones?" Fallon said. "You're the one who brought some chick back from the dead."

"When someone's gone they should stay gone!" Dean cried. "You don't mess with that kind of stuff." Fallon winced and backed up away from Dean. For a moment she'd forgotten what he had said earlier. But hearing it again now confirmed that her leaving after this case would be for the best. She backed up a few more steps until she hit the closet door. She was so lost in her own thoughts she almost missed the shuffling sound that came from inside it. She took a step away from the door.

"Dean," she whispered cocking her head towards the door. Dean nodded his head before he turned back to Neil, who he'd been trying to convince to give up Angela's location.

"Listen, it doesn't really matter where she is," he said. "There's only one way to stop her. We've got to perform another ritual over her grave to reverse the one that you did. We're going to need some black root, some, some scar weed, some candles… It's very complicated, but it'll get the job done. She'll be dead again in a couple hours. I think you should come with us." He paused but Neil didn't move. "I'm serious, Neil. Leave with us right now."

"No," Neil shook his head. Fallon didn't stick around for the rest. She teleported to the cemetery and went straight for Angela's grave. She raised her hands to waist level with her palms down to the ground. Concentrating, she slowly flipped her hands over and raised them up to her shoulders. The ground covering Angela's coffin cracked and raised. As the coffin rose higher to the surface, the dirt began to break apart and become fine as sand. It rose up in a mound and then broke apart until finally the grave was open. Fallon flicked her wrists quickly and the coffin lid opened.

"Nice work," Sam praised coming up to join her.

"That was fast," Fallon commented.

"Yeah, well, Dean drove," Sam joked.

"Well that explains it," Fallon replied forcing a smile. "Do you think she'll come?"

"I hope so," Dean said opening the coffin. "Fallon, you want to light the candles."

"I thought you just said that as part of the ploy to get her here," Fallon said pulling the candles out of the duffel bag Sam had brought. She snapped her fingers and the wicks caught. Dean opened his mouth to reply when a rustling noise nearby caught their attention. Sam pulled a gun out and walked slowly towards the sound. Fallon watched anxiously as he walked away from then.

Suddenly, Fallon saw a figure circling around Sam only to start coming up behind him. "Sam, watch out!" she called. Sam spun around and pointed the gun straight at Angela.

"Wait!" Angela pleaded. "It's not what you think. I didn't ask to be brought back. But it's still me. I'm still a person. Please." Sam didn't hesitate. He shot her in the head before booking it back towards the open grave. Angela caught him though and knocked him to the ground. Fallon forced herself to stay still. She had to wait for the right moment.

Another gunshot went off. Dean began to fire at Angela forcing her off Sam and to her feet. She stumbled back closer to the open grave. Fallon shoved her arms out in front of her, the force she created pushed Angela back into the grave where she landed inside her coffin. Dean grabbed a metal stake off the ground and dived in after her, plunging it in Angela's chest before she could recover.

Fallon was about to sigh in relief when she heard Dean mutter, "What's dead should stay dead." She stared numbly down into the hole as Dean climbed out. As soon as he cleared the open grave she closed the lid of the coffin and refilled in the grave. She heard the boys talking as they started to walk back to the Impala. She stayed where she was. She planned to teleport away when they were out of sight.

"Fallon, what are you doing?" Dean asked startling her into turning around. "We're leaving."

"I'll catch up," she lied. "I just need some recovery time."

"You can't recover while we're driving away?" Dean questioned.

Sam was looking at her intently. "Dean, go get the car started," he ordered. "We'll be right there."

"Alright," Dean agreed giving Fallon a weird look before walking back off.

"You're planning on taking off," Sam said.

"That's not…"

"And I think I know why," Sam continued not letting her get a word in. "It's what Dean just said. About dead things staying dead." Fallon tensed. "Correct me if I'm wrong.

"Yeah, well, why should I stick around if I make him that uncomfortable," Fallon replied.

"Because he wasn't talking about you, Fallon," Sam said. "It has something to do with what happened to our dad. I just don't know what. But it certainly has nothing to do with you. So you can come with me willingly or I'll make you."

"And how were you planning to that exactly?" Fallon huffed crossing her arms.

Sam smiled brilliantly. "Like this," he replied picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder.

"Sam!" she screeched squirming in his grasp. It was all for show. She could have easily gotten free just by phasing through him. But it was more fun to just be two normal friends. Sam carried her back to the car like that.

Dean raised his eyebrows when he saw them. "I thought your hand was broken," Dean commented.

"It's not like Fallon's heavy to lift," Sam replied putting her back on her feet.

"True," Dean agreed before looking at Fallon. "You over whatever strange mood you're in?"

"Let's just get out of here," Fallon replied slipping into the backseat.

They drove out of town as the sun started to rise. Fallon dazed off into space as the turned onto the highway. It had to be hours later when she felt the car turning off the highway. She expected them to be getting off at an exit for gas and a bathroom break, but when she looked up they were on the shoulder of the highway. She opened her mouth to say something when Dean suddenly got out of the car and sat down on the hood. She and Sam shot each other concerned looks before both getting out of the car and standing next to him on either side.

"Dean, what is it?" Sam asked softly.

"I'm sorry," Dean said.

"For what?" Sam asked surprised, and Fallon knew why. Dean rarely apologized for anything.

"The way I've been acting," Dean replied. "And for Dad. I mean, he was your dad too. And it's my fault he's gone."

"Dean, that is not true," Fallon said stepping closer to him.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, just as confused as she was.

"I know you've been thinking it," Dean said. "So have I. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I made a full recovery. It was a miracle. And five minutes later Dad's dead and the Colt's gone."

"Dean."

"You can't tell me there's not a connection," Dean stated. "I don't know how the demon was involved. I don't know how the whole thing went down exactly. But Dad's dead because of me. And that much I do know."

"Dean, we don't know that for sure," Fallon said.

"Fallon's right, Dean," Sam said. "We have no idea that's what happened.

"Sam," Dean said, his voice cracking as he began to cry, "you and Dad… you're the most important people in my life. And now… I never should've come back. It wasn't natural. And look what's come of it. I was dead and I should have stayed dead. You wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it." He paused and swallowed heavily. "So tell me. What could you possibly say to make that alright?"

Suddenly, Dean's actions and words made perfect sense to her. It had never been about her. Fallon glanced up at Dean and saw a single tear steaking down his face. She glanced at Sam who looked just as upset as Dean. She hesitated a moment, waiting for Sam to do something, but he seemed at a loss.

Slowly, she reached out and took Dean's hand in hers. He glanced down at her for a moment, and she thought he would pull away, but instead he adjusted their hands so that he held hers. She leaned in closer, placing her head on his shoulder. She felt the deep grief he felt and a single tear slid down her own cheek.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the long delay for this chapter. I had a busy summer and was stuck on this chapter. I hope you enjoy. If you have time please leave a review. They motivate me.

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing from Supernatural. All rights belong to the creator's of the show.

* * *

"Any idea what's taking him so long?" Fallon asked from the backseat. Dean and Fallon had gone out to the Impala ten minutes ago while Sam hit the bathroom.

"Something didn't sit right?" Dean shrugged.

"Maybe you should go check on him," Fallon suggested. Dean nodded and headed back in the motel room. Fallon picked up the fashion magazine she'd had the boys buy her at the last convenience store they'd stopped in. She had already read through it once but she had nothing else better to do. Another five minutes went by and neither of the brothers had come out of the motel room.

Fallon sighed and was about to go in for them when the motel room door opened. Dean was leading Sam out. Fallon's eyes widened at Sam's disheveled appearance. He was covered in sweat and pale. "What happened?!" she asked stepping out of the vehicle.

"Another one of his visions," Dean explained. "He's fine. Just shaken up."

"What happened in this vision?" Fallon asked.

"Same thing as last time," Sam grumbled getting into the passenger seat. "Someone dying."

"So I guess we have a job?" Fallon inquired.

"Yeah, but I think we should go to the Roadhouse first," Sam answered.

"I don't know," Dean replied. "Why don't we just chill out and think about this?"

"What's there to think about?" Sam asked

"I don't know if going to the Roadhouse is the smartest idea," Dean said.

"Dean, it's another premonition. This is gonna happen again, and Ash can tell us where," Sam said.

"Yeah, but…"

"Plus, it could have some connection with the demon," Sam added. "My visions always do."

"That's my point!" Dean exclaimed. "There's gonna be hunters there. I don't know if going in and announcing that you're some freak with a demonic connection is the best thing, okay?"

"So I'm a freak now?" Sam stated.

"You've always been a freak," Dean replied, but the joke fell flat. He decided to try another tactic. "It's not a good place for Fallon to be."

"I'll be fine Dean," Fallon said. "I'll hang in the kitchen if I have to. No one but Ellen and Jo will be back there."

"You're out voted, Dean," Sam said. "If you hurry up we can get there in under two hours."

When they arrived at the Roadhouse Fallon immediately teleported into the kitchen. She wound up next to the window where she'd broken the salt circle. She went to go wander around the racks for a bit but she had only taken one step forward into the aisle when she stumbled into Ellen, who screamed.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Fallon exclaimed. "I thought I was alone in here." Ellen looked like she was about to say something when the door to the kitchen started to push open. Fallon immediately ducked behind a shelf.

"Everything okay in here Ellen?" a gruff man asked. "We heard you scream."

"Everything's fine, Frank," Ellen assured the man quickly. "I just saw a spider is all."

"Need help killing it?" Frank asked.

"Hey, I may not be a hunter, but I can kill a spider on my own," Ellen replied lightly. "I've got it, Frank. Go on back to your drink." Frank left and Ellen came around to stand in front of Fallon. "I'm guessing Sam and Dean are here."

"Yes," Fallon replied. "They needed to talk to Ash. We thought I'd be safest in the kitchen."

"Don't you need to talk to Ash too?" Ellen questioned. "You're teamed up with them."

"They'll catch me up later," Fallon said.

Ellen scoffed. "Ash has a back room right through that wall," she said pointing towards the wall beside them. "Wait for me to tap on it. He's probably not wearing pants right now. You can phase right on in after that."

Fallon smiled. "Thank you," she said. About five minutes later and there was a tap on the wall. She phased into the room. Dean and Sam smiled at her. Ash looked confused but accepted her presence.

"What can I help you lot with?" he asked.

Sam took out a picture of the bus logo he'd sketched on the way here. "Do you think you could find out where this bus is used?" Sam asked.

Ash took the logo with a raised eyebrow. "Any particular reason you need to know?" he asked.

"Please, it's important," Sam insisted. Ash nodded and started up his laptop. It didn't take long for him to find a match.

"It's the logo from the Blue Ridge bus lines in Guthrie, Oklahoma," he told them.

"Okay," Sam said. "Do me a favor, check Guthrie for any demonic signs, or omens, or anything like that."

"You think the demon's there?" Ash said.

"Maybe," Fallon answered.

"Why would you think that?" Ash asked.

"Just check it, alright?" Dean sighed.

"Don't be an ass, Dean," Fallon scolded lightly before turning to Ash and giving him a puppy dog face. "Please check for us Ash."

Ash looked amused. He turned back to his laptop, but quickly began shaking his head. "No demon," he said.

"Alright, try something else for me," Sam replied. "Search Guthrie for a house fire. It would be 1983, fire's origin would be a baby's nursery, night of the kid's six month birthday."

Ash looked surprised. "Okay, now that is just weird, man," Ash said after a moment. "Why the hell would I be looking for that?"

Sam plopped down a beer bottle next to Ash. "Cause there's a PBR in it for ya," he bribed.

"Well, while you search for that, I'm going out to have a drink of my own," Dean said. Fallon stayed behind with Sam who was a bundle of nerves at the moment. She grabbed a pencil and a pad of paper of Ash's desk and drew a tic-tac-toe game. She placed and X in the upper right hand corner and shoved the pad and pencil towards Sam.

"Want to play a game?" she inquired playfully. Sam smiled at her and took the pad and pencil from her. He wrote an O in the middle. They got through five games, four of which Fallon had won, before Ash found a match.

"Bingo!" he cried pleased with himself. "We have ourselves a winner."

"Who is it, Ash?" Sam asked.

"An Andrew Gallagher," Ash replied printing his information. He passed them to Sam who scanned over them.

"I'll meet you two at the car," Fallon told him. She waved goodbye to Ash before teleporting into the backseat of the Impala. Soon, both boys joined her.

"So are you going to tell me who we're looking at?" Dean asked.

"Give me time to get information on this guy, Dean," Sam snapped booting up his laptop. Dean raised an eyebrow but just started the car. Fallon sat waiting for Sam to relay the information, but her attention soon became drawn to Dean who had started to sing.

Fallon sighed. Dean had many talents, but singing wasn't one of them. She grit her teeth, ready to tolerate it for a while before telling him to knock it off, but her eye's widened when she realized what he was sing. He usually turned the channel when the song "I Can't Stop This Feeling" came on. Now he was actually getting into the song. Fallon gawked first at him and then turned to glance at Sam who just looked annoyed.

"You're kidding, right?" Sam complained.

"I heard the song somewhere, I can't get it out of my head, I don't know," Dean excused. "Whaddya' got?"

"Andrew Gallagher," Sam replied. "Born in eighty three, like me. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, also like me."

"You think the demon killed his mom?" Dean questioned.

"Sure looks like it," Sam said.

"How did you even know to look for this guy?" Dean asked.

"Well, that's easy," Fallon said. "All of his visions have something to do with the demon. And if not the demon than the other kids the demon visited."

"Like Max Miller," Sam added. "Remember him?"

"Yeah, but Max Miller was a pasty little psycho," Dean pointed out.

"The point is he was killing people," Sam said. "And I was having the same type of visions about him. And now it could be happening all over again with this Gallagher guy."

"Or you could be jumping to conclusions," Fallon said.

"I don't think so," Sam replied.

"How do we find him?" Dean asked.

"Don't know," Sam answered. "No current address, no current employment. He still owes money on all his bills."

"Sounds like a real winner," Fallon snorted.

"Any collection agency flags?" Dean asked.

"None in the system," Sam told them.

"They just let him go?" Dean asked amazed.

"Seems like it," Sam replied.

"Well, did he work in the past?" Fallon asked. "We could question his old co-workers. Maybe one of them will know where he is."

"Yeah. I have a work address from his last W-2," Sam answered.

"I guess we start there," Dean said.

Fallon had to admit both boys looked dreamy in a suit. They had dug them out before entering their suspect's old work place. It didn't take them long to flag down an old co-worker. Oddly though, the co-worker didn't seem surprised or flustered to have a pair of guys in suits question her about a former co-worker.

"You won't get anything out of Andy, guys," she told them. "I'm sorry, but they never do."

"They?" Sam questioned.

"You're debt collectors, right?" the girl asked. "Once in a while they come by. I don't know what Andy says to them, but they never come back."

"Actually, we're lawyers," Dean said. "Representing his Great Aunt Leda. She passed away and left Andy a sizable estate."

"Are you a friend of his?" Sam asked.

"I used to be, yeah," the girl replied. "I don't see much of Andy anymore."

"Andy kicks ass, man!" another worked cried as he passed them.

"Is that right?" Dean asked.

"Andy can get you to do anything," the guy replied. "He even got me backstage at Aerosmith once, it was beautiful, bro."

"How about bussing a table or two, Weber?" his co-worker suggested annoyed before turning back to the boys. "Look, if you want to find him try Orchard Street. Just look for a van with a barbarian queen painted on the side."

"Barbarian queen?" Dean questioned at the same time as Fallon.

"She's riding a polar bear," the girl told them. "It's kind of hard to miss."

"I'll bet," Fallon said as they headed out the door. "This Andy guy sounds like a total loser."

"Just because he's a little different?" Dean replied amused.

"Well, he's certainly not a contributing member of society," Fallon said as they all got into the Impala.

"Yeah, well, he might be a dangerous member of society," Sam huffed. "Let's get to Orchard Street." Dean drove them a few blocks over. Fallon made a face when she saw the van, but Dean looked thrilled.

"I'm sorry," he laughed. "I'm starting to like this dude. That van is sweet." Sam scowled. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Sam replied moodily.

"That's the kind of nothing that means something, Sam," Fallon told him leaning between the seats. "Come on. Get it off your chest."

Sam sighed. "This Andrew Gallagher, he's the second guy like this we've found. Demon came to them when they were kids, now they're killing people."

"Allegedly killing people," Fallon pointed out. "We don't have any concrete proof that this guy has killed anyone."

"Fallon's right," Dean said. "This Andy guy could be completely innocent."

"My visions haven't been wrong yet," Sam insisted.

"What's your point?" Dean asked.

"My point is I'm one of them!" Sam cried.

"No you're not," Dean and Fallon answered together.

"Guys, the demon said he had plans for me and the children like me," Sam said. "Maybe this is his plan. Maybe we're all psychic freaks. Maybe we're all supposed to be…"

"What? Killers?" Dean replied.

"Yeah," Sam answered.

"So the demon wants you out there killing with your minds, is that it?" Dean scoffed. "Give me a break. You're not a murderer, Sam! You don't have it in your bones."

"No?" Sam questioned. "Last time I checked I kill all kinds of things."

"Monsters," Fallon said. "Not innocent people. There's a huge difference." Sam looked less than convinced. Fallon was about to say more when she noticed a strange guy walking out of a building nearby. She leaned closer to the windshield to get a better look.

"You alright there, Fallon?" Dean asked.

"I think the dude in the pajamas is our guy," she replied. Dean and Sam turned their gaze to match hers.

"Got him" Sam said. They watched as he shook one man's hand. "That's him. That older guy, that's him, that's the shooter."

"Alright, you keep an eye on him. Fallon and I will stick with Andy," Dean said. Sam quickly stepped out of the car and began to follow the man along the street. Fallon and Dean watched as Andy climbed into his van and then began to follow him. They hadn't gone far though when he stopped the van and got out.

"He must know we're following him," Fallon sighed as he started walking towards them.

"Well, don't worry, I'll play it cool," Dean muttered and rolled down his window to speak with their suspect.

"Hey," Andy greeted.

"Hey," Dean replied.

"This is a cheery ride," Andy commented.

"Yeah, thanks," Dean said.

"Man, the '67 Impala's best year if you ask me," Andy praised. "This is a serious classic."

"Yeah. You know I rebuilt her too," Dean replied smugly.

"Show off," Fallon grouched.

"Yeah?" Andy asked impressed.

"Yeah, can't let a car like this go," Dean said.

"Damn straight. Hey. Can I have it?" Andy asked.

"Sure, man," Dean replied getting out of the car.

"Dean, what are you doing?" Fallon cried as Andy slipped into the driver's seat. He didn't seem to hear her. Fallon craned her head around and watched him fade as they drove away. Sighing, she turned around to face forwards, crossing her arms over her chest as she did so. She was just about to teleport back to Dean when the guy spoke to her.

"I know I'm not as good looking as your boyfriend, but you don't have to act so put out."

Fallon stared at him at a loss for words. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before blurting out, "He's not my boyfriend!"

Andy laughed. "If you say so," he said, clearly not believing her.

"I do say so," Fallon snapped. "And it's the truth."

"Well, if he's really not your boyfriend how about going out with me instead?" Andy suggested looking at her the same way he had with Dean when he'd told him to give him the car. "How about a kiss?"

Fallon leaned in close, stopping just before she reached his lips. "No," she stated firmly before leaning back into her seat. She smirked at the shocked expression on his face. Whatever trick he was using to control others didn't work on her. He didn't seem angry about it though. After getting over his shock he looked more amused than anything. He quickly turned the ignition and began to drive.

Fallon stayed in the car with him. He clearly had no idea what she was and she didn't want to give him a heart attack by teleporting out on him. Plus, Dean would kill her if she was the reason this dude crashed his car. He ended up driving them back to the diner he used to work at. After parking the car he turned to face her again.

"Want to come in with me?" he asked, trying to pull his trick again.

"I'm good here," Fallon replied. He shrugged and left the car and into the diner. Fallon took the opportunity to get back to the boys. She found them at street they'd left Sam on. They looked like they were arguing. She hurried over to them.

"I can't believe you let this guy steal the Impala," she heard Sam snap. "Not to mention you left Fallon alone with him."

"I'm sure she's fine," Dean said, but he didn't sound convinced.

"Then where is she Dean!" Sam cried.

"Behind you," Fallon answered and both boys jumped.

Sam sighed in relief after getting over his surprise. "Fallon, are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine, Sam," she reassured him.

"Hey, sorry, for leaving you like that," Dean apologized sheepishly. He still looked a little dazed.

"Don't worry about it. I'm not scarred for the after-life," Fallon joked.

"Why didn't you teleport away immediately?" Sam asked.

"Because he could see me and I didn't want to freak him out," Fallon answered.

"He could see you?' Dean said.

"Yeah," Fallon replied. "He thinks you and me are dating, by the way."

Dean huffed. "This guy seems pretty presumptuous," he commented. "Why would he think that?"

"Right!" Fallon exclaimed. "Isn't that the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard? Me and you dating?"

"I've heard more ridiculous notions," Sam muttered under his breath.

"What was that, Sammy?" Dean asked.

"Nothing," Sam replied. "Fallon, where did you last see the car?"

"He stopped at the diner he used to work at. Hopefully, he's still there. Let's go," she replied leading them back to the diner. "So what happened with that guy you were tagging?"

"He killed himself," Sam answered dejectedly.

"What?!" Fallon exclaimed.

"He received a phone call from Andy and then he killed himself," Sam replied.

"Sam, Andy didn't call anyone," Fallon said. "I was with him."

"Maybe he called them from the diner after you left," Sam suggested.

"Maybe," Fallon said. "Do you have a time of death?"

"Thank god!" Dean suddenly called out and began to pick up the pace. Fallon looked up and saw him heading for the Impala. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll never leave you again." He opened the driver's side door. "Well, at least he left the keys in it."

"Yeah, real Samaritan, this guy," Sam snorted.

"Well, it looks like he can't work his mojo just by twitching his nose," Dean said as they piled into the car. "He's gotta use verbal commands."

"Yeah, I figured that out when Andy called our doctor friend who just offed himself," Sam grumbled.

"I'm telling you Sam, he wasn't on the phone when I was with him," Fallon said. "And okay, he could have called once in the diner, but I feel like the doctor was dead by then."

"I'm trying to remember what time it was when he killed himself," Sam sighed.

"I just don't know if he's our guy, Sam," Dean cut in.

"Dean, you had O.J. convicted before he got out of his white Bronco and you have doubts about this?" Sam questioned.

"He just doesn't seem like the stone-cold killer type," Dean replied. "And O.J. was guilty."

"Either way, how are we going to track this guy down?" Sam asked.

"You've seen what he rides around in," Fallon said. "Let's get back there."

They drove back to Andy's van. Fallon shook her head at it. "This has to be the most obnoxious vehicle I have ever seen," she muttered.

"Not exactly an inconspicuous ride," Dean agreed as they approached the back doors. "Let's have a look." He pulled the doors open. Inside the back of the van they could see a disco ball hanging from the ceiling and fur rugs covering the floor. A tiger was painted on one wall and heavy volume books lay scattered around an enormous bong.

"This is…this is magnificent!" Dean exclaimed in awe. "Not exactly a serial killer's lair though."

"Hegal, Kant, Wittgenstein?" Sam read the authors' names from the books. "That's some pretty heavy reading."

"Let's just get back to the Impala before he shows back up here," Fallon sighed.

They ended up tagging the guy for the next few hours. At one point they had stopped so the boys could eat. Dean was finishing his meal off at the moment. "Ugh," he complained. "One day I'd love to just sit down and eat something I didn't have to microwave at a minimart."

"What I don't get is the motive," Sam said completely disregarding his brother. "I mean, the doctor was squeaky clean. Why would Andy waste him?"

"Two out of three of us aren't convinced it is Andy," Fallon replied.

"Okay enough!" Sam snapped. Fallon blinked in surprise. Sam hardly ever snapped at her. Dean seemed equally surprised.

"Hey!" he cried. "Don't yell at Fallon just because she's not buying into Andy the possibly not so evil villain. There's no hard proof yet."

"The doctor was mind controlled in front of a bus," Sam exclaimed. "Andy just happens to have the power of mind control. You do the math."

"I've seen plenty of math equations where it seems like you should get one answer but another one turns out to be right, Sam," Fallon replied a little testily. "I think this problem is a little more complex than originally thought."

"I just don't think he has it in him?" Dean said much more simply.

"Well, how the hell would you know?" Sam snapped. "I mean, why are you bending over backwards defending him?"

"Cause you're not right about this!" Dean cried exasperated.

"About Andy?" Sam questioned.

"No, about big…" Fallon was about to retort when a sharp rap sounded throughout the car. They all jumped and turned to see Andy at Sam's open window.

"Hey!" he said. "You think I haven't seen you three? Why are you following me?" Fallon recognized that he was pulling his mind control trick and was opening her mouth to spout out a lie for the group, but Sam beat her to it.

"Well, we're lawyers," Sam explained. "See, a relative of yours has passed aw…"

"Tell the truth!" Andy said in the same tone as before.

"That's what I'm…"

"We hunt demons," Dean exclaimed suddenly.

"Dean, shut up!" Fallon cried horrified.

"What?" Andy asked perplexed.

"Demons and spirits," Dean continued to explain, all the while looking very confused over why he was telling him this. "Things your worst nightmares wouldn't even touch. Sam, here, he's my brother. And the girl in the back, Fallon, she's a ghost."

"Dean, shut up!" Sam cried.

"I'm trying. He's psychic!" Dean replied frantically. "Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer, and he's afraid that he's going to become one himself, cause you're all part of something that's terrible. And, I hope to hell that he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right." A pregnant pause filled the air.

"Are you finished?" Fallon asked hesitantly, afraid of what else might come spewing out of his mouth.

"God, I hope so," Dean replied.

"Okay, you know what?" Andy said sounding a bit freaked out. "Just leave me alone!"

"Okay," Dean agreed readily. Andy started walking away from them then. Sam and Fallon both stepped out of the car and headed towards him. Andy looked over his shoulder at them.

"What are you doing? Look, I said leave me alone," Andy cried.

"Doesn't seem to work on us, Andy," Sam replied.

"What?" Andy asked shocked.

"You can make people do things, can't you?" Sam inquired. "You can tell them what to think?"

"Look, that's crazy," Andy said.

"It all started almost a year ago, didn't it?" Sam continued to push. "After you turned twenty-two. Little stuff at first, and then you got better at controlling it."

"How do you know all this?" Andy asked.

"Because what Bozo told you back there was true," Fallon snapped. "This is what we do for a living."

"The same thing happened to me, Andy," Sam told him. "My mom died in a fire, too. I have abilities too. You see, we're connected, you and me."

"You know what?" Andy said backing away. "Just, just get out of here alright?!"

"That tricks not going to work on us, Andy," Fallon told him. "And we're not leaving without answers."

"Why did you tell the doctor to walk in front of a bus?" Sam asked.

"What?" Andy said.

Sam winced suddenly before refocusing on Andy. "Why did you kill him?"

"I didn't!" Andy shouted. Sam cringed again, this time more noticeably.

"Sam?" Fallon questioned. Sam's legs suddenly crumbled beneath him. Fallon raised her arms to try and stop his fall but Dean was already catching him.

"Sam, what is it?" Dean asked lowering him gently to the ground.

"Look, I didn't do anything to him," Andy stated.

"A woman," Sam groaned. "A woman burning alive."

"What else did you get?" Dean prompted.

"A gas station, a woman is going to kill herself," Sam mumbled.

"What does he mean going to?" Andy asked panicking. "What is he? What is…"

"Shut up!" Fallon snapped.

"She gets triggered by a call on her cell," Sam continues to explain his vision.

"When?" Dean asked.

"I don't know, but as long as we keep our eyes on this son of a bitch he can't hurt her," Sam replied coolly.

"I didn't hurt anybody," Andy protested.

"Yeah, not yet," Sam retorted and then froze as a fire engine whizzed by. Fallon and Dean shared a look before running after it. They followed it a few block down and over until they arrived at a gas station. Fallon wrinkled her nose at the smell of burnt flesh. The fire was already out and there was a tarp covering the body, but Fallon could see the scorched cement.

"This is awful," Fallon commented.

"No kidding," Dean replied looking just as unsettled as she was feeling. "It couldn't have been Andy who caused this though."

"Better tell Sam," Fallon commented.

After Dean ended his call with Sam the two set to work finding information on the victim. Well, Dean went to work while Fallon watched for any suspicious behavior from the people they spoke with. When they got all they thought they could get they headed back to Sam and Andy.

"Victim's name was Holly Beckett," Dean told them. "Forty-one. Single."

"Who is she?" Sam asked Andy.

Andy shrugged. "Never heard of her," he replied.

"Dean called Ash on the way over," Fallon said. "He came up with some connection. Holly Beckett had a kid when she was eighteen back in '83. The same day Andy was born."

"Andy, were you adopted?" Sam asked.

"Well, yeah," Andy said.

"And you neglected to mention that?" Dean huffed annoyed.

"Why would he have brought that up?" Fallon snapped.

"Exactly," Andy agreed. "I never knew my birth parents, and like you said, my adoptive mom died when I was a baby." Realization suddenly struck him. "Do you think this Holly woman could actually be my…"

"She is…was," Fallon said. "I snuck into the courthouse and stole your adoption records. Dean pulled some folded papers out of his pocket and handed them to Andy.

"Dr. Jennings, the man who died earlier, was her doctor," Dean continued to explain. He oversaw the adoption. You have a solid connection to both of them."

"But so does someone else," Fallon added. "Andy, you're a twin."

Andy paled and sunk down to the ground. Sam guided him to the curb. "I have an evil twin," he said shocked.

"Hey, there's one bad seed in every family," Fallon said comfortingly. "My uncle Paolo is in jail for stealing cars and armed robberies. He's suspected of some woman's murder but the cops couldn't prove it. Anyway, my point is what your relatives do don't have to reflect on you." The three boys stared at her. "What?"

Andy shook his head and looked down at the papers in his hands. "His name is Ansem Weems. He's got a local address."

Dean tugged another paper out of his pocket and handed it to Andy. "Hate to kick you while you're freaked, but take a look at that." Andy's eyes widened in shock. "You know him?"

"He works at the diner," Andy said.

"Alright, Andy," Sam said leading them to the Impala. "Tell us everything you know about this guy."

"Well, I mean, not much," Andy admitted as Dean began to drive. "Weber shows up one day about eight months ago acting like he's my best friend in the world. Kinda weird, like, trying too hard, you know?"

"He must have known you were twins," Fallon said.

"Why did he change his name?" Dean asked. "Why not just tell you the truth?"

"No idea," Andy replied.

"Aah!" Sam groaned from the front seat.

"Sam?" Fallon asked concerned.

"He's going to kill someone else," Sam gritted out. "That girl from the diner."

"Tracy?!" Andy cried alarmed.

"Where are they Sam?" Fallon asked.

"On a bridge," Sam told them.

"There's only one bridge that could be," Andy said. "Head towards the edge of town now!" Dean stepped down on the gas and followed Andy's directions to the bridge. He came to a stop a few feet away from it and they all piled out of the car.

"Dean, you should stay back," Sam said.

"No argument here," Dean agreed. "Had my head screwed with enough for one day."

"Fallon," Sam said, "can you hang back a few feet that way across for Weber? That way he's got nowhere to run?"

"You got it," Fallon said and teleported to the spot Sam had told her. She watched as Sam and Andy, to her surprise, approached Weber. She was just out of hearing distance, able only to make out an occasional shout. She shifted nervously on her feet. This wasn't going to go well. This Weber guy was wacked and he wasn't going to go out without trying to take someone else out with him. She froze when she saw Sam get whacked in the head with something and crash to the ground where he laid unconscious. Andy and Weber started arguing then and Fallon was about to approach when she saw Dean slinking stealthily towards them, a gun in hand.

She then froze when she heard Weber say, "I see you. Bye-bye." She stared in shock as Dean turned the gun on himself.

"No!" she screeched stretching an arm out towards Weber when a gunshot sounded. She froze in horror before she saw Weber crash to the ground. She glanced at Dean who was lowering the gun, and then over at Andy who was holding a gun he'd fired in his hand. Fallon hesitated another moment before hurrying in and taking the gun off him. She quickly chucked it over the bridge before turning back to Andy.

"You're going to need to call the police."

"And tell them what?" Andy asked shakily.

"I don't know. Make something up," Fallon told him before hurrying over to Sam. Dean had revived him and he was on his feet. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Sam told her. "What happened?"

"I'll tell you while we wait for the police to arrive," Dean said leading him to the Impala.

When the police showed up they watched Andy mind control them into believing they saw Weber shoot himself. "He's getting better at it," Sam commented. They watched as he approached them.

"She won't even look at me," Andy said dejectedly.

"She's shocked," Fallon replied. "Give her some time."

"No," Andy said. "This is different. I never used my mind thing on her before last night. She's scared of me now."

"Hey, Andy, I hate to do this, but we have to get out of here," Sam told him before passing him a slip of paper. "Here. I wrote down my cell. You don't have to be in this alone, all right? If anything comes up, just call me."

"What am I supposed to do now?" Andy asked sounding lost.

"Be good," Fallon told him. "Stay out of trouble." Dean turned the key in the ignition and they drove away.

"Looks like I was right," Sam sighed.

"About?" Fallon questioned.

"Andy. He's a killer after all," Sam said.

"Sam, there's a big difference between killing someone in cold-blood and killing someone in defense of someone else."

"Bottom line, last night, he wasted somebody," Sam stated.

"Yeah, but he's not a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho," Dean argued. "He was pushed into that."

"Weber was pushed too," Sam said. "Max Miller was pushed. Hell, I was pushed by Jessica's death."

"A lot of people are pushed over the edge, Sam. And not all of them have connections to this demon," Fallon pointed out. Sam looked like he was about to argue when Dean's cell rang.

"Hello? Ellen," Dean exclaimed. "What's going on? Yeah, we'll be there by nightfall."

"Everything okay?" Fallon asked.

"I don't know," Dean replied. "She seemed anxious."

When they arrived at the Roadhouse it was clearly shut down for the night. "I hope she didn't do this just on my behalf," Fallon said. "If I start costing her business she won't want me around."

"No, she sounded shaken up on the phone," Dean replied. "Probably doesn't want to have to deal with customers while something's going on." They entered the bar and Ellen quickly approached them.

"Jo, go pull up another case of beer," she ordered.

"Mom…" Jo started to protest.

"Now, please," Ellen snapped. Jo moved off to another room. "So you want to tell me about this last hunt of yours?"

"Not really," Dean replied taken aback. "No offense, it's just kind of a family thing."

"Not anymore," Ellen replied tersely dropping a stack of paper down in front of them at the bar. "I got this stuff from Ash. Andrew Gallagher's house burnt down on his six month birthday, just like your house. You think it was the demon both times, don't you? You think it went after Gallagher's family?"

"Yeah, we think so," Sam admitted.

"Sam…" Dean started to protest but Ellen ignored him.

"Why?" she questioned Sam.

"None of your business," Dean said quickly.

"You mind your tongue with me boy," Ellen scolded him. "This isn't just your war, this is war. Now something big and bad's coming and it's coming fast, and their side holds all the cards. Now, at best all we got is us. Together. No secrets or half-truths here."

"We think the demon has plans for the kids whose family were targeted," Fallon explained easily. "All the infants were six months old when it happened. And they all seem to have…some kind of ability."

"Ability?" Ellen questioned.

"A psychic ability," Sam told her. "I have, um…I have visions. Premonitions. I don't know, it's different for everybody we've come across so far. The demon said he had plans for people like us."

"What kind of plans?" Ellen asked.

"Well, that's the million dollar question isn't it," Fallon commented. "But I think it's safe to assume their nothing good."

"These people out there," Ellen said slowly. "These psychics… they dangerous?"

"Not all of them," Dean replied defensively.

"But some are," Sam stressed more truthfully. "Some are very dangerous."

"Well, how many of them are we looking at?" Ellen asked.

"We've been able to track a pretty clear pattern so far," Dean explained. "They've all had house fires on the night of the kid's six month birthday."

"Wait, no, that's not right," Fallon said. "Weber didn't have a house fire. I checked his background with Sam."

"Which breaks pattern," Ellen said. "So if there's any others like him, there'd be nothing in the system. No way to track them all down."

"And so who knows how many of them are really out there," Dean said coming to a very uncomfortable realization. The four of them shared a startled look as Jo re-entered the bar-room.

"Jo, honey?" Ellen said shakily.

"Yeah?"

"You'd better break out the whiskey instead."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** Yes! On schedule! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please leave a review if you have time. They keep me motivated. Thank you for reading.

 **Disclaimer:** Nothing from Supernatural belongs to me. The characters and script all belong to the writers, creators, and the CW.

* * *

"So, your Uncle Paolo," Dean commented as he stepped out of the Impala, "what's up with him?"

"What do you mean what's up with him?" Fallon asked. They were had just pulled up at the Roadhouse to see if they could find another case since they hadn't had any luck with the local papers. Suddenly Dean decided he wanted to know more about her relative. "I already told you about him."

"Yeah, but I mean, did he kill someone?" Dean pushed.

"I don't know!" Fallon exclaimed. "There's no concrete evidence, just a few circumstantial evidence that points his way."

"Cases have been won with circumstantial evidence," Sam pointed out.

"Yeah, well I guess the police of the DA's office didn't think they could win a murder trial with this evidence," Fallon replied tersely.

"Why would he have killed her?" Dean asked. "Was it an affair gone wrong?"

"More likely it was a mob hit," Fallon muttered. Sam and Dean came to an abrupt halt.

"Your families in the mob?!" Dean cried.

"Just a few on my mom's side," Fallon said defensively. "And we don't approve."

"But if you were in a tough spot and needed someone taken out for you would they have the connections to do that?" Dean questioned.

"Dean," Sam scolded.

"What? I want to know," Dean said.

"Sure, they would," Fallon replied. "But not because they're in the mob, but because they're family. Family means everything to my family."

Suddenly, the sound of broken glass came from inside the Roadhouse followed by shouting. "Catfight," Dean commented.

"We better put an end to it before it escalates," Sam sighed, and they headed inside. Ellen and Jo were facing off when they entered the building.

"I am your mother, I don't have to be reasonable!" Ellen shouted.

"You can't keep me here!" Jo cried back.

"I wouldn't bet on that," Fallon muttered under her breath. Ellen heard her and glanced over at them.

"Guys, bad time," she told them.

"Yes, ma'am," Sam agreed.

"Yeah, we rarely drink before ten anyway," Dean said, and they began to back out, but Jo stopped them.

"Wait, I want to know what they think about this," she said.

"That it's none of our business?" Fallon replied hoping they'd be allowed to leave without any more protest. Ellen looked like she was about to protest when the phone rang. She angrily stalked over to it to answer.

Jo walked over to them. "Three weeks ago, a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment," she said handing a folder out to Dean who stared at it apprehensively. "Take it. It won't bite."

"No, but your mom might," Dean commented. Jo glared at him and he took the folder.

"And this girl wasn't the first," Jo continued to explain. "Over the past eighty years six women have vanished. All from the same building, all young blondes. Only happens every decade or two so cops never eyeball the pattern. So we're either dealing with one very old serial killer, or…"

"Who put this together? Ash?" Dean asked.

"I did it myself," Jo answered.

"I gotta admit, we hit the road for a lot less," Sam said.

"Good," Ellen exclaimed rejoining the group. "You like the case so much, you take it."

"Mom!" Jo exclaimed.

"Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough," Ellen stated firmly. "And I won't lose you too. I just won't."

"We'll take the case," Fallon said to break the tension. "After all, Philly's only two hours away from Scranton."

"You know, I feel kinda bad for stealing Jo's case," Sam said as they climbed the stairs of the apartment building to the floor the girl who'd disappeared lived.

"I don't," Fallon replied. "Her mom's right. She doesn't belong hunting. She doesn't know what she's doing."

"Yeah, maybe she put together a good file," Dean agreed, "but could you see her out here working one of these things? I don't think so. He Fallon are you getting anything?"

"Yeah, there is definitely another spirit here," she replied.

"Is it adverse to you being here?" Dean asked.

"I'm not getting any bad vibes telling me I'm about to be attacked so I'm going with no," Fallon replied.

"What's that?" Sam asked pausing at a light fixture on the wall.

"What's what?" Fallon said turning back.

Sam ran his finger over the light fixture and pulled away with some black gunk stuck on it. "Holy crap!"

"That's ectoplasm," Dean expressed in awe.

"I've only seen this stuff, like, twice," Sam said. "I mean to make this stuff you have to be one majorly pissed off spirit."

"It looks like the gunk Gary the snail trailed around on a SpongeBob episode," Fallon commented. Dean and Sam both gave her a pair of side eyes. "Just saying."

"Alright, let's find this badass before he snags anymore girls," Dean said. They were about to round the corner when they heard two people. One of their voices sounded very familiar.

"Is that…" Fallon started to comment before they rounded the corner to see Jo talking with the landlord, "Jo."

"It's so convenient," Jo said glancing at Fallon when she heard her name spoken.

"Yeah, it's a great building, fixed it up real nice," the landlord said. "All the apartments come furnished, too."

"It is so spacious," Jo continued with her fake praise of the apartment. "You know, my friend told me I absolutely had to come check it out, and I have to admit, she was right. You did a really good job with this place."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean asked shaking off his surprise.

"There you are honey," Jo said grabbing Dean and snaking an arm around his waist. Fallon could swear she saw red and gritted her teeth audibly.

"Oh great," Sam muttered under his breath placing an arm around Fallon's shoulders as if he intended to hold her back.

"So, did you check out the apartment?" Jo asked Dean bringing him in on the charade.

"Yeah, loved it," Dean said quickly. "Great flow."

"How'd you get in?" the landlord asked.

"It was open," Dean answered quickly.

"Now, Ed, um, when did the last tenant move out?" Jo asked.

"Oh, about a month ago," the landlord told them. "Cut and run too. Stuck me for the rent."

"Well, her loss our gain!" Jo said cheerfully. "Cause if Dean-o loves it, it's good enough for me."

Fallon and Sam followed Jo and Dean into the apartment, Sam staying very close to Fallon.

"I'll flip you for the sofa," Jo said breezily.

"Does your mother even know you're here?" Dean questioned.

"Told her I was going to Vegas," Jo told him.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure she'll buy that," Fallon said.

"I'm not an idiot," Jo replied. "I got Ash to lay a credit card trail all the way to the casinos."

"You know you shouldn't lie to your mom," Dean admonished. "Shouldn't be here either."

"Well, I am," Jo stated. "So untwist your boxers and deal with it."

"We shouldn't have to deal with it," Fallon snapped. "It's not our job to watch some brat!"

"Oh, Fallon, do you have to…" Sam started to say but Jo cut her off.

"What's your problem with me?!" Jo asked defensively. "You're only barely civil with me. You don't even know me."

"I…"

"We're not going there," Sam stated firmly pulling Fallon back a step. "Can we just focus on the case? Without any fighting?"

"Fine," Fallon replied. "What's the history of the building?"

Jo spread out a roll of blueprint she'd had in her back pocket. "This place was built in 1924," she said. "It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago."

"What was here before 1924?" Dean asked.

"Nothing," Jo replied. "Empty field."

"So most likely scenario someone died bloody in the building, and now he's back and raising hell," Sam commented.

"I already checked," Jo said. "In the past eighty-two years, zero violent deaths. Unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor."

"As a victim of violence, no, I don't count that as a violent death," Fallon said watching Dean pace back and forth. "Dean, would you cool it?"

Dean immediately sat down at the counter. "Have you checked police reports, county death records…"

"Obituaries, mortuary reports and seven other sources," Jo listed annoyed. "I know what I'm doing."

"That remains to be seen," Fallon muttered.

"Okay," Sam intervened before a fight could break out, "so, uh, it's something else, then. Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought a spirit with it."

"Well, we've got to scan the whole building. Everywhere we can get to, right?" Jo commented and shot a look at Fallon. "You have to make that part of the job easy."

Fallon smiled tightly. "That's why they keep me around," she replied.

"We keep you around for more reasons than that!" Dean said loudly looking almost offended that she would say that.

"I know that," Fallon agreed smiling more genuinely this time.

"Well, we'll cover more ground if we all split up," Jo said, "so…"

"Oh no," Dean interrupted. "You and I will go together. Sam and Fallon can search the bottom floors. Fallon will do her own circuit at night to cover the places we can't get into. And no, this is not negotiable."

Fallon and Sam were climbing to the second floor when Sam finally opened his mouth. "Do you have a reason you don't like Jo, other than the fact she has a crush on Dean, I mean?" Sam asked. "Or do you just hate all girls?"

"You have to admit she's a brat," Fallon said.

"Okay, so she's a little immature, but I don't think that calls for the behavior you exhibited towards her," Sam replied.

"So what? I'm a bitch?" Fallon retorted.

"No, but you're being a bitch," Sam said. Fallon gave him a look. "There's a difference."

Fallon snorted. "There's more to it than the fact that she's another girl or the fact she has a crush on Dean, but… I don't really want to get into it. But I get what you're saying. I'm being a bitch. I'll try to reign it in."

"Good," Sam said, "because if you two get into a catfight Dean will be way too happy." They both burst out laughing.

Fallon was just exiting the last apartment she'd swept through over the night looking for a cursed object when she ran into Sam? "Coffee run?" she guessed.

"Yeah.," Sam replied yawning. "You find anything?"

"No," Fallon answered. "I feel his presence all over this building but there's nothing I came across that had any glaring signs showing it hosted a spirit. I don't think we're dealing with a cursed object, just a spirit."

"Yeah, but there aren't any violent deaths that occurred here," Sam said.

"Well, we're obviously missing something," Fallon replied. "We'll look into it more when we get back. Maybe something happened before the building even existed. Maybe it's the land."

"Could be," Sam admitted. "Alright, we'll dig more into the…" He cut off as they exited the building. Blocking off the whole front of the building were a squadron of police cars. Two officers were talking with a distressed looking man nearby. Sam gave Fallon a look and she nodded before moving closer.

"When did you notice she was gone?" she heard one of the police officers ask the man.

"She wasn't answering her phone all day yesterday," the man said. "I thought it was really unlike her, she's usually glued to that thing."

"Were you immediately concerned?" the other officer asked.

"No," the man replied. "I figured she was just busy. Teresa always has some project she's working on. When she didn't answer the first call I just figured I tried again later."

"And when was it you called the second time?" the first officer asked.

"About two hours later," the man said. "I called to see if she wanted to go out for lunch with me. I was trying to make up for having to cancel our last date."

"Were you concerned this time when she didn't answer?" the officer asked.

"Concerned probably isn't the right word," the boyfriend said. "I guess I was just puzzled. It's so not like her to not answer her phone. But I wasn't really concerned until I called her around eight o'clock, to ask how her day had been, that I was concerned."

"You didn't think she'd just gone out to a bar or club and didn't hear the phone ring?" the second officer asked.

The boyfriend shook his head. "Teresa doesn't go out to bars or clubs on her own," he said. "They aren't her scene. I was hoping that's where she was, that maybe she and a few of her friends had gone out on a whim, but I didn't think that was the case."

"So, when did you come here?" the second officer questioned.

"Immediately, after leaving a message on her voicemail asking her to call me," the boyfriend said. "She's not supposed to have an extra key, but she had one made for me. I came straight over and entered her apartment. That's when I became more scared than concerned."

"It looked like there had been a struggle?" one of the officers asked.

"I'm not sure," the boyfriend replied. "There were a lot of cracks in the walls and ceiling that hadn't been there the last time I was over, but nothing else was broken, and there wasn't any blood. I thought maybe one of her decorating projects went awry. But then she never came home. I waited until I knew there was no way she could still just be out with her friends, and then I called 911."

Fallon went back to Sam. "There's another girl missing,"

"Did you get an apartment number?" Sam asked.

"No, but I bet they'll be something marking the apartment as a crime scene," Fallon replied. Let's start searching." They didn't have to go far. They were on the second floor when they saw police officers standing outside of one apartment room. "Go notify Dean and Jo. I'll check out the room."

"Be careful." Sam told her.

Fallon nodded her head and walked towards the apartment room. She breezed past the police officers and into the room. She noticed the cracks the girl's boyfriend had mentioned. They definitely weren't the result of a decorating project gone wrong. Fallon traced her finger along one of the cracks on the wall. When she pulled her hand away she had ectoplasm on her finger. She went through the rest of the apartment but couldn't find any sign of the spirit. She felt a trace of him throughout the apartment, especially near the walls, but nothing showing that this was where he was attached. With a sigh of frustration, she popped back to the apartment they had stationed for themselves.

"Find anything?" Dean asked.

"I feel his presence strongest when near the walls, but that apartment is not where he's attached to this building," Fallon said.

"Well, between that and the tuft of hair you two found, I'd say this sucker's coming from the walls," Sam said.

"But who is it?" Dean asked. "Building's history is totally clean." Fallon opened her mouth to bring up her suggestion of the land being haunted when Jo spoke first.

"Maybe we're looking at the wrong place," she suggested glancing down at a photograph of the empty field the apartment building had been built on. Fallon walked up next to her and stared at the photo. The building next to the empty lot had bars on its windows.

"There used to be a prison next door to this lot," Fallon commented. "Sam, give me your laptop." Sam started up the laptop and pushed it over to Fallon. She did a quick google search and pulled up an article on the old prison. "Moyamensing prison. It was built in 1835 and torn down in 1963. And get this, they used to execute people by hanging them in the empty field next door."

"Well, then we need a list of all the people executed there," Sam said.

"Oh, I'm already there, Sammy," Fallon replied smugly pulling up a list.

Sam glanced over her shoulder and raised his eyebrows. "A hundred and fifty-seven names?"

"We've got to narrow that down," Dean commented.

"Nope, we don't need to," Fallon said. "I know the culprit." She hovered her mouse over the name she'd picked out.

"Herman Webster Mudgett?" Sam questioned.

"The real name of the notorious H.H. Holmes," Fallon told them. "America's first serial killer. The man who was behind the reason the term serial killer was coined."

"You've got to be kidding me," Dean said incredulously.

"Who is this guy again?" Jo asked.

"He was a serial killer," Sam told her. "He confessed to twenty-seven murders, but some put the death toll at over a hundred."

"And his victim flavor of choice?" Dean added, "Pretty, petite blondes." They all glanced at Jo. "He, uh, used chloroform to kill them, which is what I smelled in the hallway last night. At his place, cops found human remains, bone fragments, and long locks of bloody blonde hair." They all glanced at Jo again. "Boy, you sure know how to pick them."

"Well, we just find the bones, salt them and burn them, right?" Jo said.

"Well, it's not that easy," Sam told her. "His body is buried in town, but it's encased in a couple tons of concrete."

"What?!" Jo exclaimed. "Why?"

"The story goes that he didn't want anybody mutilating his corpse," Dean answered "Cause, you know, that's what he used to do."

"You know something?" Sam said in realization. "We might have an even bigger problem than that."

"How does this get bigger?" Jo asked sounding overwhelmed.

"Because of who this guy is," Fallon replied. "Holmes built an apartment building in Chicago. He called it the Murder Castle. The whole place was a death factory, a maze of death, if you will. It had trap doors, acid vats, quick line pits. The guy built secret chambers in the walls! He locked his victims in and kept them alive for days. The lucky ones he'd suffocate. The others starved to death."

"So Teresa could still be alive," Jo said. "She could be inside these walls."

"We need sledgehammers, crowbars," Dean listed. "We've got to smash these walls. Anywhere thick enough to hide a girl."

"Okay," Fallon agreed. "I'll start going through. If I find anything I'll let you know."

"Do you need to know what floors we'll be on?" Jo asked.

"Oh no, I'm more than tuned into Sam and Dean," Fallon replied. "I'll know exactly where you are."

Fallon sighed in frustration as she rounded another corner in the walls. Every time she felt she was just on the tails of the other ghost he would suddenly disappear on her. Even more aggravating, she hadn't seen anywhere big enough for this ghost to hide a body. She could feel Sam's presence a few floors down from her and Dean's and Jo's across the building on the same floor. She tensed when she realized where the other spirit was heading. And then she heard a scream.

She immediately teleported to where Jo was. Dean wasn't there. They must have separated for some reason. Fallon didn't waste time worrying about though as she saw H.H. Holmes' with his hand clutching onto Jo's hair. She raised a hand and sent him flying back. He recovered quickly though, and before she could get to Jo he materialized right in front of her and wrapped his hands around her throat. She tried to pull at his wrists, but he was too strong.

"Fallon!" Jo cried and began to rush towards her, but Holmes pinned her to the wall. Fallon tried to blast him away, but she was weakening in her presence. The world was beginning to dim, and she could only faintly hear Dean banging on the wall, calling for both her and Jo. She glanced at Holmes' face. He was grinning maliciously at her.

"They'll finish you," she croaked before fading away.

Sam's P.O.V.

* * *

Sam was heading back for the room, having not found anything in the walls when Dean nearly collided into him. "Whoa," he exclaimed holding Dean's shoulders to steady him.

"He's got Jo and Fallon!" Dean panted, trying to catch his breath.

"What?" Sam cried. "How did that happen?"

"I wasn't with her. We came to a section of the wall that was too narrow for me to fit through, so she went ahead," Dean explained. "I heard her scream and then there was the sound a scuffle. Jo called out for Fallon so she must have shown up. When I finally got through they were both gone!"

"Hey, hey, look, we'll find them, okay?" Sam assured his brother.

"Where?" Dean asked testily.

"Inside the walls," Sam answered.

"We've been inside the walls all night!" Dean exclaimed. "None of the other girls were there, they won't be either!"

"Let's continue this conversation inside the room, okay?" Sam urged as he noticed someone's door opening a crack. They quickly went to their room. "Let's think about this. Maybe we have Holmes' M.O. wrong."

"Yeah, well, we'd better friggin' think fast," Dean snapped when his cell suddenly rang. "Yeah." Sam watched as Dean's face paled, his own followed suit after realizing it was Ellen on the phone, and the gig was finally up. Dean winced after the call ended. "Dammit!"

"She coming up?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, and we need to have Jo back by the time she's here," Dean replied. He began pacing around the room.

"You okay?" Sam asked.

"Why would he take Fallon?" Dean asked abruptly. "She isn't his normal victim."

"He probably didn't take her, Dean," Sam said. "His energy probably overpowered hers. She's probably in limbo recovering."

"What if it's worse than that?" Dean pushed.

"Look, Fallon's faced plenty of foes more powerful than this bastard," Sam said. "She'll be fine."

"How can you be so calm about this?!" Dean exclaimed. "She's your best friend!"

"Because I know she'll be fine," Sam replied. "I'm surprised you care this much. When she first joined us you used to tell me behind her back that you'd hope some other spirit would cancel her out so we'd be saved the trouble of digging up her grave to salt and burn her."

"Yeah, well, that was before we were friends!" Dean cried.

"Well, I'm glad your relationship with her has improved," Sam said, "but if you don't calm down and get it together you'll be no help to Fallon or Jo. Now, get over here, I've got something." While Dean was on the phone he had been doing another Google search on his laptop about Holmes' Chicago apartment building. "If you look at the layout of the Holmes' murder castle, there's all torture chambers in the walls, right?"

"Right," Dean agreed.

"But there's one we haven't considered yet," Sam said. "The one in this basement."

"This building doesn't have a basement," Dean pointed out beginning to get worked up again.

"You're right. It doesn't," Sam agreed before clicking on another tab he had up, "but I just noticed this. Beneath the foundation, it looks like part of an old sewer system that hasn't been used for…"

"Let's go," Dean said.

Sam was using a map of the old to try sewer system. It led them to an empty field. He scanned the field with a metal detector until it went off. He glanced at his brother. Dean quickly began to dig and after a while cleared away enough dirt for a metal trap door to surface. Sam helped him clear away the dirt and they both tugged it open.

Carefully, they began to climb down a metal ladder. When they reached the bottom there was a very small tunnel. The two army crawled through the tunnel until they came to a large space and saw Holmes standing in the middle of the open chasm with a hand over Jo's mouth.

"Hey!" Dean shouted and fired his rifle at him. The rock salt bullet hit Holmes and he disappeared. Dean ran to Jo and Sam quickly looked around the room to see if others were trapped down here. He came across Teresa, but no one else alive.

"We're gonna get you out of here, alright?" he told her comfortingly as he carried the girl in his arms.

"Is Fallon here?" he heard Dean questioning Jo.

"No," Jo answered. "She tried to save me, but he overpowered her. He was strangling her, and… it was like she just faded away. She got harder and harder to see and then she wasn't there anymore."

"She'll be okay, Jo," Sam told her. "She just needs some recovery time."

He then helped lead Teresa out of the sewer system. He told her to go for her boyfriend's apartment and to pretend everything was fine. He didn't know if she would listen or not, but she had nodded her head before taking off. When he got back down to the room Holmes had been holding Jo he found her sitting in the middle of the room.

"What's going on here?" he asked.

"I'm going to be the bait," Jo answered shakily.

"You sure you're okay with that?" Sam asked.

"No," Jo replied. "But I think it's the best option we have."

"Sam and I won't be far," Dean assured her. "The second Holmes is in the right spot we'll be right here. Sam, I need you to get back to the Impala and grab all the sacks of salt we have. And rope."

They worked quickly to set up their trap and then Sam and Dean ducked out of the room, leaving Jo in sitting on the floor in the middle of the room. It wasn't long before Holmes rematerialized and approached her.

"Now!" Dean shouted. Jo dived forward out of the room and Sam and Dean shot at the sacks of salt they'd hung up all around the room. As the salt spilled out of it, it made a circle; trapping Holmes inside it. The spirit angrily shouted at them.

"Scream all you want you dick," Jo muttered angrily. "There's no way you're stepping over that salt."

Sam stood with Jo near the trapped door while they waited for Dean. "So, this job as glamorous as you thought it would be?" he questioned.

"Well, except for all the pee-your-pants terror, yeah. Sure," Jo replied. "But that Teresa girl's gonna live a life because of us. It's worth it, isn't it?"

"Depends on who you're asking," Fallon's voice rang out from behind them.

"Fallon!" Sam exclaimed spinning around. Fallon looked pale and it looked like it was taking everything she had to stay on her feet, but she wasn't fading in and out.

"I'm okay, Sam," she said. "No need to look so worried."

"I wasn't," Sam teased her lightly. "Dean, on the other hand…"

Fallon snorted. "Please," she replied, though in good humor. "He'll probably be sorry to see I'm back."

"No, he was really worried about you," Jo told her. "He asked me if you were being held captive with me and Teresa and he only looked more frantic when I told him what happened. Thank you, by the way."

"For what?" Fallon asked. "I didn't stop the guy from snatching you."

"You tried," Jo said.

Fallon opened her mouth to reply when loud beeping approached them. Fallon raised her eyebrows as a large cement truck rolled towards them.

"You ripped off a cement truck?" Jo asked shocked.

"I'll give it back," Dean replied dismissively. "Hey Fallon."

"I heard you missed me," Fallon said.

Dean snorted. "Don't believe everything you hear," he told her smiling. She smiled widely back and stood with Jo and Sam as they watched Dean pour cement down into the sewer system, ensuring the salt circle would never be broken.

Fallon's P.O.V.

* * *

The group began to head back to their apartment room. Sam and Dean had both tried to hover around Fallon, but she'd waved them off. Jo on the other hand, insisted on walking right beside her. The boys were a few steps ahead of them, just out of hearing distance as they approached their floor.

"Thank you again, for trying to rescue me," Jo said. "Especially, since I know you don't like me."

Fallon sighed. "Look, it's not that I don't like you," she said, and Jo gave her a look. "No, really, I know I sometimes have issues with other girls around, I always have, but you're a nice girl."

"So, what's your problem with me?" Jo asked.

"I'm jealous," Fallon answered simply. "You have everything I want. A life you could do anything you wanted. You could be with a guy you like. I'm even jealous of the fact that you can fight with your mom! I'd kill to have that back."

"If it's any consolation I wish you could have that back," Jo told her.

"I don't think there is a consolation for what happened to me," Fallon admitted, "but I appreciate the sentiment. Thank you. And I'm sorry for being a bitch earlier."

"Apology accepted," Jo answered. They continued silently until they met up with Sam and Dean at the top. They froze as they entered their apartment room and were met with a livid Ellen.

Fallon was sat in the back seat between Jo and Sam as they pulled up to the Roadhouse. She had kept her head down the whole ride back. She couldn't bring herself to meet Ellen's eyes. She stayed in the car when the rest went into to building. It wasn't long before Sam and Dean came right back out.

"Are we banned for life?" she asked, trying to make a joke.

"The verdict hasn't been given yet," Sam replied.

"Let's just see if things cool down," Dean said leaning against the Impala. A few minutes later and Jo came storming out of the Roadhouse and stormed past them. Dean followed but Sam and Fallon stayed at the car. After a bit Dean came back. Without saying a word he got into the driver's seat. Sam and Fallon shared a look before also getting back into the car. Fallon watched the Roadhouse grow smaller as they drove away. She had a feeling it would be a while before they saw it again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry this chapter is late. I had a stomach bug and a pinched nerve in my shoulder the previous week which pretty much made writing impossible. Hopefully, there will be no occurrence so I can get the remaining chapters out on time. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I have to admit I really enjoyed typing this one. If you have a moment please leave a review. They keep me motivated. Thank you for reading!

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Supernatural. The characters and script belong entirely to the creators and writers of the show.

* * *

Fallon glanced nervously around the diner they were eating at. Around them people were going about their daily business. None seemed to be paying any attention to them, but after what happened during their last case she didn't think they could be too careful. She had been one moment away from blowing out the walls of the police station the boys had been held in when the female cop came around to their side. Unfortunately, the incident drew a lot of attention to them.

Still, it didn't appear anyone at this diner recognized them. Fallon was about to relax when the T.V. on the counter turned on and the news station had a picture of Dean on full display on the screen. Quickly, she snapped her fingers and changed the channel to some lousy soap opera. A few people in the diner looked up confused, including the waitress who'd turned the set on, but none looked their way. She sighed in relief.

Sam was just as tense over the situation as she was. He currently was scowling down at the screen of his laptop.

"So much for our low profile," he grumbled. "You've got a warrant in St. Louis, and now you're officially on the Fed's database."

Dean grinned. "Dude, I'm like Dillinger or something," he crowed.

"Yeah, cause that's something to be proud of," Fallon remarked sarcastically.

"She's right, Dean. It's not funny," Sam said. "It makes our job harder. We've gotta be more careful now."

"Well, what do they got on you?" Dean asked a little put out.

Sam ducked his head. "I'm sure they haven't posted it yet," he muttered.

"No accessory? Nothing?" Dean questioned smugly.

"Dean," Fallon admonished.

"You're jealous," Dean laughed.

"No, I'm not!" Sam replied indignantly.

"You're both idiots," Fallon cut in. "Can we please just get into the case? What have you got Sam?"

Sam shut down his computer and pulled out a few papers he's printed for research. "Architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home, a condominium he designed."

"I'm sure his life was so tragic," Fallon replied.

"When did he call animal control?" Dean asked.

"Two days earlier," Sam answered.

"Did he actually say Black Dog?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam said. "A vicious, wild, black dog. The authorities couldn't find it and no one else saw it. In fact, the authorities are a little confused as to how a wild dog could get past the doorman, take the elevator up and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town. After that, no more calls, he doesn't show up for work, two days later he takes a swan dive."

"That might be the crazy story of the year," Fallon commented.

"Do you think we're dealing with an actual Black Dog?" Dean asked.

"What is a black dog?" Fallon questioned. "I mean, we're not talking about a black lab I'm assuming."

"No, definitely not," Sam replied chuckling softly. "The lore on it is all pretty vague. There are spectral black dogs all over the world, but some say they're animal spirits, others say death omens. But anyways, whatever they are they're big and nasty."

"So, they're a grim," Fallon said.

"A what?" Dean questioned.

"A grim," Fallon repeated. "You know, like in Harry Potter? Harry mistook his godfather's Animagus form as a grim."

"And you say what comes out of our mouth is crazy," Dean snorted. "What is it with your obsession with this book series."

"It's a good series," Sam came to her defense. "And I'm sure Rowling's use of the grim probably came from lore on actual Black Dogs."

"Yeah, whatever," Dean replied pulling over a picture of a supposed Black Dog. He smirked before looking at Sam. "I bet they could hump the crap outta your leg, look at that one, huh?" Fallon and Sam both gave him a pissy look. His smile slipped. "What? They could."

"Let's just go interview this guy's firm partner," Fallon sighed slipping out of the diner's booth.

"So, you and Sean Boyden were business partners for almost ten years, right?" Sam questioned.

"That's right," the man confirmed. "Now, one more time, this is for…?"

"A tribute to Mr. Boyden," Dean jumped in. This time when they'd gone to question the business partner of the deceased they'd pretended to be journalists. "Architectural Digest." Boyden's business partner laughed. "This funny to you?"

"No, it's just a tribute," the man sighed. "See, Sean always got the tributes. He kills himself, leaves me and his family behind… well, he gets another tribute."

"Any idea why he'd do such a thing?" Sam questioned.

"I have no clue," Sean's partner said. "I mean he lived a charmed life."

"How so?" Sam asked.

"He was a flat-out genius," the man replied. "I mean, I'm capable, but next to him, I… and it wasn't always that way either."

"No?" Dean questioned.

"You want to know the truth?" the man questioned before continuing. "There was a time where he couldn't even design a pup tent. Hell, ten years ago he's working as a bartender at this place called Lloyds. A complete dive."

"So, what changed?" Sam asked.

"You got me," the man replied. "But overnight, he gets this huge commission, and he starts designing, he starts designing the most ingenious buildings anyone has ever seen. It was like, the level of Van Gogh, and Mozart…"

"What?" Dean pushed.

"It's funny," the man huffed. "True geniuses, they seem to die young, don't they? To have that kind of talent? Why…why just throw it away?"

"You know, that comment about these talented people dying young and from weird coincidences feels accurate," Fallon commented as they left Sean's old office building.

"I'm sure most of it's a coincidence," Sam told her.

"Probably," Fallon replied. "But maybe it's something to keep in mind."

"Good. You can think about it while I go question a worker at the animal shelter," Dean said.

After their stop at the shelter they began to move through the list of complaints regarding dogs in the area. So far, they weren't having any luck. Fallon groaned as they pulled up to another house.

"If this leads to another dead end can we chalk this case up as a bust and move on?"

Dean was also on his last nerve. "I swear, if this is another freakin' Pomeranian barking in the neighbor's yard…." He grumbled as Sam knocked on the door. He dropped the rest of his threat when the door opened to a young woman. He schooled a more serious expression before speaking again. "Afternoon, Ma'am. Animal Control."

"Oh, someone already came yesterday," the woman replied.

"We're just following up," Sam said smoothly. "We're looking for Dr. Sylvia Pearlman."

The woman stepped aside to let them enter the house. "The doctor, well, she, I don't know exactly when she'll be back," she told them. "She left two days ago."

"Okay," Sam said. "And you are…?"

"I'm Ms. Pearlman's maid," the woman replied.

"This lady had a maid?" Fallon snorted as she began to look around the room.

"Where did the doctor go?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure," the maid answered. "She just packed and went. She didn't say where. That stray dog, did you find it finally?"

"Oh, not yet," Sam replied. "You didn't happen to ever see the dog yourself, did you?"

"Well, no, I never even heard it," the maid admitted.

"Dean," Fallon said pointing to a picture that was hanging on the wall. Dean wandered over to her. "The doctor apparently used to hang out at Lloyd's too." He nodded before turning back to the maid.

"Hey, you know, I read she was, uh, chief surgeon at the hospital," he said. "She's gotta be what, forty-two? That's pretty young for that job."

"Youngest in the history of the place," the maid said. "She got the position…. ten years ago?"

"I'm starting to see a pattern here," Fallon said. "I'm not sure if I'm going to like where it's going."

"Well, thank you for talking to us," Sam said. "If the doctor comes back would you ask her to get in contact with us?" He handed her a card.

"Absolutely," the maid replied.

"So, we're checking out this Lloyd's joint, right?" Fallon asked as they got back to the car.

"Bingo," Dean confirmed. "Good find, Fallon."

"Thanks," Fallon replied. "Although I don't know what it means."

"I've got an idea," Dean said. "I'm just hoping I'm wrong."

Dean parked the car near Lloyd's and they started to make their way to the bar.

"What a dump," Fallon said. "This is the type of bar you should avoid at all cost. The police have to be called here all the time."

Sam laughed. "Probably," he agreed. "But I bet the place is cheap."

"Hey," Dean called out from a few paces behind them. Sam and Fallon turned back around.

"Yeah?" Sam asked.

"Think someone planted these?" Dean questioned staring at a large patch of yellow flowers on the ground.

"In the middle of all these weeds?" Fallon questioned. "Why?"

"These are, uh, what do you call them?" Dean asked Sam.

"Yarrow flowers?" Sam replied hesitantly.

"Yeah," Dean replied snapping his fingers in confirmation. "They're used for certain rituals, aren't they?"

"What kind of rituals?" Fallon asked.

"Summoning rituals," Sam told her.

"What would someone want to summon?" Fallon asked.

Dean huffed, sounding angry. "So, two people become sudden successes about ten years ago. Right around the time they were hanging out here at Lloyd's…"

"Where there just happens to be a crossroads," Sam finished. "You don't think?"

"That these people summoned some demon?" Fallon cut in as she caught on to what was happening. "Yeah, I do."

"Let's find out," Dean said. He walked a few paces away and then surveyed his surroundings. "This seem about the dead center to you, Fallon?"

"Yes," she replied coming over to join him. She held her hands palm down above the ground for a minute and then flipped them. The dirt rose up and crumbled before splitting apart to reveal an old, rusted box lying at the bottom of a hole. She raised her hands and the box rose up into the air.

Sam snatched it and opened the box. Inside were a few small bones and a stopper jar. "I'd be willing to bet that's graveyard dirt," he commented holding the jar. "And a black cat bone."

"Ugh!" Fallon shuddered wrinkling her nose. "I hope the poor kitty was already dead."

"That's serious spell work," Dean said. "I mean, that's Deep South Hoodoo stuff."

"Used to summon a demon," Sam stated.

"Not just someone," Dean said. "Crossroads are where pacts are made. These people are actually making deals with the damn thing. You know, cause that always ends good."

"So, these dogs, they're actually…"

"Hellhounds," Sam told Fallon. "Demonic pit bulls."

"Yeah, whoever this demon is, it's back and it's collecting," Dean said. "And that doctor lady? Wherever she's running she ain't running fast enough."

"So, it's just like the Robert Johnson legend," Sam commented. "I mean, selling your soul at the crossroads, kind of deal?"

"Yeah, except that wasn't a legend," Dean replied. "I mean, you know his music." Sam stared blankly at him. Fallon and Dean both groaned. "You don't know Robert Johnson's songs? Sam, there's occult references all over his lyrics, I mean Crossroad Blues? Me and the Devil Blues?"

"Hellhound on my Trail?" Fallon provided. Sam shook his head.

"The story goes he died choking on his own blood," Dean sighed. "He was hallucinating and muttering about big, evil dogs."

"And now it's happening all over again," Fallon said.

"We've gotta figure out if anyone else struck any bargains around here," Sam said.

"Great, so we've gotta clean up these peoples' mess for them?" Dean grumbled. "I mean, they're not exactly squeaky clean. Nobody put a gun to their head and forced them to play Let's Make a Deal!"

"Dean, they're human beings who made a mistake," Fallon said. "They were probably desperate. You want to just leave them to die?"

"Someone goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in and try to save them?" Dean replied. She smacked him on the back of the head and gave him a look. "Alright, fine." He plucked a picture of some guy out of the rusted box. "Rituals like this, you've got to put your own photo into the mix, right? So, this guy probably summoned this thing. Let's go see if anyone inside knows him. If he's still alive." Fallon smiled approvingly.

As it turned out the man was still alive. One of the patrons inside had given them his address and they were climbing up some rickety stairs to his apartment now.

"What's this guy's name again?" Sam asked.

"George Darrow," Fallon answered. "A regular at Lloyd's if that guy's explanation was anything to go by."

"This house probably isn't up next on MTV Cribs, is it?" Dean commented.

"I guess the deal he made didn't include money," Fallon replied dryly.

"Maybe this place is full of babes in Princess Leia bikinis," Dean suggested excitedly.

"Princess Leia bikinis," Fallon repeated incredulously while Sam just gave his brother a look and sighed.

"I'm just saying, this guy's got one epic bill come due," Dean said. "Hope at least he asked for something fun."

"I just hope that's not what you would ask for," Fallon replied as they reached Darrow's door. At the base of the door black dust made a thick line.

"Look at that," Sam hummed.

"What is that pepper?" Dean asked and then the door opened to reveal a middle-aged man glaring down at him.

"Who the hell are you?" the man asked.

"George Darrow?" Dean questioned.

"I'm not buying anything," George replied.

"Looks like you went for the wrong shaker there," Dean commented pointing at the black dust. "Usually when you want to keep something evil out you go for the salt."

"I don't know what you're talking about," George replied defensively.

"Talkin' about this," Dean replied holding up the old picture. "Tell me. You seen that Hellhound yet?"

"Look, we want to help," Sam said. "Please. Just five minutes." The man sighed before stepping back to let them in. Fallon stared down at the black dust before carefully stepping over it. Whatever it was didn't work on her. She doubted it would do much against demonic dogs either.

"So, what is that stuff out front?" Sam asked.

"Goofer Dust," George replied.

"That sounds like it came right out of that SpongeBob SquarePants movie," Fallon snorted.

"Laugh all you like but it works," George replied. Fallon jumped slightly realizing he could see her and stared at him. The man snorted. "You three think you know something about something but not Goofer dust?" He tossed a sack of the stuff at Dean who caught it.

"Well, we know a little about a lot of things," Dean commented. "Just enough to make us dangerous."

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Hoodoo," George replied. "My grandma taught me. Keeps out demons."

"Demons we know," Dean said.

"Well, then maybe it'll do you some good," George said. "Four minutes left."

"Mr. Darrow, we know you're in trouble," Sam said.

"Yeah, that you got yourself into," Dean pointed out.

"But that doesn't mean you should just give in," Fallon added staring Dean down.

"Fallon's right," Sam said. "It's not hopeless. There's gotta be something we can do."

"Listen," George sighed. "I get that you three want to help. But sometimes a person makes their bed, they've just got to lie in it. I'm the one that called that demon in the first place."

"Why?" Fallon asked.

"I was weak," George replied. "I mean, who don't want to be great? Who don't want their life to mean something? I just… I just never thought about the price."

"Was it worth it?" Dean questioned harshly.

"Hell no," George said. "Course, I asked for talent. Shoulda gone for fame. I'm still broke and lonely. Just now I got this pile of paintings don't nobody want. But that wasn't the worst."

"What do you mean?" Fallon asked.

"The demon didn't leave," George replied. "I never counted on that. After our deal was done the damn thing stayed at Lloyd's for a week. Just chatting. Making more deals. I tried to warn folks but who's going to listen to an old drunk?"

"How many others were there?" Sam asked.

"The architect, that doctor lady," George listed. "I kept up with them. They've been in the papers. Least they got famous."

"Was there anyone else?" Fallon asked.

"One more," George said. "Nice guy too. Evan Hudson. I don't know what he asked for. Don't matter now. We done for."

"No, there's got to be a way," Sam replied.

"You don't get it. I don't want a way!" George cried.

"Look, you don't…"

"I called that thing!" the man exclaimed. "I brought it on myself. I brought it on them. I'm going to hell one way or another. All I want is to finish my last painting. Day or two, I'm done. I'm just trying to hold them off 'til then." He sighed. "Okay, you three, time you went and help somebody that wants help."

"Do you really want to die?" Fallon questioned sadly.

George stared at her. "I'm tired," is all he said.

It didn't take them long to track down Evan Hudson. They parked the car and hurried up his front walk before banging on the door. The door opened to reveal a nervous looking man.

"Yes?" he asked looking between the three of them. Fallon could tell her could see her too.

"You ever been to a bar called Lloyd's?" Dean questioned abruptly. "Would have been about ten years ago." The door immediately slammed in their faces and they could hear the latch click from the other side.

"Smooth," Fallon commented.

"Think we should kick down the door?" Dean suggested.

"No, I do not think that," Fallon replied before phasing through the door and removing the latch for the boys to enter. She turned quickly and went after Evan. She found him in a room in the back of the house.

"Stay away from me demon!" he shouted when he saw her, throwing a paperweight on the desk at her.

"I'm a ghost, not a demon," Fallon replied as the paperweight phased through her. "And I'm here to help you."

"We know about the deal you made," Dean said as he and Sam found them.

"What?" Evan asked. "How?"

"Doesn't matter," Sam replied. "All that matters is, we're trying to stop it."

"How do I know you're not lying?" Evan said suspiciously.

"Well, you don't, but you're kinda running low on options there, buddy-boy," Dean snapped.

Evan took that into consideration for a second before nodding. "Can you stop it?" he asked them.

"Don't know," Sam admitted.

"But we'll try," Fallon added.

"I don't want to die," Evan said pathetically.

"Of course you don't," Dean replied bitterly. "Not now."

"Dean, stop," Sam said.

"What'd you ask for anyway, Evan?" Dean continued. "Never need Viagra? Bowl a perfect game? What?"

"My wife," Evan said.

"Right," Dean laughed humorlessly. "Getting the girl. Well, that's worth a trip to hell for."

"No," Fallon said softly snapping back into the present. "She was dying, wasn't she? You did it to save her."

"She had cancer," Evan told them defeatedly. "They'd stopped treatment, they were moving her to hospice, they kept saying… a matter of days. So yeah, I made the deal. And I'd do it again. I'd have died for her on the spot."

"Did you ever think about her in all this?" Dean asked nastily.

"I did this for her," Evan stated.

"You sure about that?" Dean questioned taking large steps towards him. "I think you did it for yourself. So you wouldn't have to live without her. But guess what? She's going to have to live without you now. But what if she knew how much it cost? What if she knew it cost your soul? How do you think she'd feel?"

"Okay, that's enough!" Fallon cried. "Dean, follow me out into the hall." He turned on his heals and stormed out of the room. She followed him. "Hey, are you alright?" She placed a hand on his arm and immediately felt a surge of anger and grief flow through her. She balked stepping away from him. She glanced up at him and noticed he looked calmer now, while she wanted to punch her fist through something. Before Dean could answer, and before she could really freak out, Sam came out into the hall after them.

"You alright?" he asked the question Fallon had just before.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Dean asked the anger back in his face. "Hey, I got an idea." He pulled out the Goofer Dust. "You throw George's hoodoo at that Hellhound, keep it away from Evan as long as you can. I'm gonna go to the crossroads and summon the demon."

"Summon… are you nuts?" Sam asked.

"You can't do that," Fallon said as the anger she'd just been feeling faded away and she could focus again.

"I can trap it," Dean said. "I can exorcise it, and I can buy us time to figure out something more permanent."

"Yeah, but how much time?" Sam questioned.

"I don't know, a while," Dean replied aggravated. "I mean, it's not easy for those suckers to claw their way back from hell and into the sunshine."

"No. No way," Sam said.

"You're not allowed to say no, Sammy," Dean replied. "Not unless you have a better idea."

"Dean, you can forget it," Sam cried. "I'm not letting you summon that demon."

"Why not?" Dean said.

"Because I don't like where your head is at right now, that's why not," Sam replied.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked.

"Probably something about the fact that you were all in Evan's face a few minutes ago," Fallon said.

"Exactly," Sam said. "And you know, you've been on edge ever since we found that crossroads, Dean, and I think I know why."

"We don't have time for this," Dean said guardedly.

"Dad," Sam said as Dean pushed past him. "You think maybe Dad made one of these deals, huh? Hell, I've been thinking it. I'm sure you've been thinking it too."

"It fits, doesn't it?" Dean said quietly. "I'm alive, Dad's dead. The yellow-eyed demon was involved. What if he did? What if he struck a deal? My life for his soul?"

"Then it would have been worth it," Fallon stated. Before either of the boys could reply they heard Evan scream from the next room.

Dean straightened up. "Just keep him alive, okay?" he asked.

"I'm coming with you," Fallon said taking a step towards him, but Dean held out an arm to stop her.

"I need you here, okay?" he said. "I have more faith in you than that Goofer Dust."

Fallon smiled. "Just don't do anything stupid, capiche?"

"You got it," he told her and then left the house.

"If he does what I think he's going to do, then I'll kill him," Fallon muttered.

Sam laughed. "I'll help," he said. "Now go try to calm him down while I leave a line of this dust."

Dean's P.O.V.

* * *

Dean placed his picture in Darrow's old tin box and then placed it in the hole he'd dug up in the middle of the crossroads. He quickly covered it with dirt. When he looked up a beautiful woman with long dark hair stood before him.

"So, what brings a guy like you to a place like this?" she questioned. Her voice sounded like silk. He stared at her as he took in the situation. "You called me?"

"I'm just glad it worked," Dean replied.

"First time?" the demon said.

"You could say that," Dean answered.

"Oh, come on now. Don't sell yourself short," the demon said. "I know all about you, Dean Winchester." Her eyes glowed red.

Dean instantly felt weary. He didn't have the advantage he thought he did. "So, you know who I am," he said hoping she'd give him more information on what she had on him.

"I get the newsletter," is all the demon said.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense," Dean tried again. "What have you heard?"

"Well, I heard you were handsome, but," the demon glanced over him from head to toe, "you're just edible. What can I do for you, Dean?"

"Maybe we should do this in my car," Dean suggested. If she wasn't going to give any more away he would just have to assume he still had the advantage before resorting to plan B. "Nice and private."

"Sounds good to me," the demon replied following him over to the Impala.

"So, I was hoping we could strike a deal," Demon said.

"That's what I do," the demon said.

"I want Evan Hudson released from his contract," Dean stated.

"Hmm," the demon hummed considering. "So sorry, darling. That's not negotiable."

"I'll make it worth your while," Dean told her.

"Oh really?" the demon replied amused. "What are you offering?"

"Me," Dean replied feeling extremely glad Fallon wasn't here to hear him say that. She'd probably kill him.

"Well, well, well," the demon replied amused. "You'd sacrifice your life for someone else. Like father, like son." Dean tried to force himself not to flinch. They were almost at the car. He would have his advantage soon. He hoped. "You did know about your dad's deal, right? His life for yours? Oh, I didn't make the deal myself, but boy I wish I had."

Dean grit his teeth as he opened the passenger's door. "After you."

"Such a gentleman," the demon purred about to step forward until she looked down. Anger filled every feature of her face. "A Devil's Trap? You've got to be kidding me. You stupid, stupid…I should rip you limb from limb."

Dean backed up as she started advancing towards him. He backed up under a wooden structure nearby. "Take your best shot," he pleaded.

The demon stopped and smiled cruelly. "No. I don't think so," she said slowly. "I'm not going to put you out of your misery."

"Yeah? Why not?" Dean asked.

"Because your misery's the whole point," the demon said nastily. "It's too much fun to watch. Knowing how your daddy died for you, how he sold his soul. I mean, that's gotta hurt. It's all you ever think about. You wake up and your first thought is, 'I can't do this anymore'. You're all lit up with pain. I mean, you loved him so much. And it's all your fault. You blew it, Dean. I could have given you what you need."

"What do I need?" Dean asked working hard to keep his tone even.

"Your father. I could have brought him back," the demon said. He forced himself not to react. He wouldn't go for this bait. The demon then smiled even more maliciously. "Or maybe, you'd rather save that ghost of yours. I could make her human again. After all, she really didn't deserve to die." The demon sighed. "Your loss. Seeya, Dean. I wish you a nice, long life."

"Hold on," Dean blurted out without thinking. He couldn't stop picturing Fallon's face.

The demon turned around. "You're lucky I have a soft spot for lost puppies and long faces," she purred. "I just can't leave you like this. Besides, you didn't call me here for Evan. Not really."

"Can you make her human again?" Dean asked. "Fallon?"

The demon's eyes sparkled. "Of course I can," she said. Just as she was. She would live a long and natural life, like she was meant to. That's a promise."

"What about me?" Dean asked.

"I could give you ten years," the demon said. "Ten long years with her. And she would have Sam to comfort her when those ten years run out."

Dean took another step back. "You think you could… throw in a set of steak knives," he replied sarcastically.

The demon took a few steps under so that she stood under the structure with him. "You know, this smart-ass defense mechanism of yours…" she paused and looked up at the Devil's Trap above her head. Dean smirked. Plan B always worked. The demon glared at him. "Dean!"

"Now you're really trapped," Dean told her. "That's gotta hurt."

"Let me out. Now," the demon ordered.

"Sure," Dean agreed smoothly. "We just gotta make a little deal here first. You call off your Hellhounds and let Evan go. Then I'll let you go."

"I can't break a binding contract," the demon replied.

"And by can't you mean don't want to?" Dean replied knowingly. "Last chance. Evan and his wife get to live to a ripe old age. Going, going…."

"Let's talk about this."

"Okay, gone," Dean said. He pulled his father's journal out of his jacket pocket and began reciting one of the exorcisms as he walked in circles around the structure. The demon began to shake uncontrollably and looked more and more in pain as the exorcism continued.

"Wait!" she finally bit out. Dean paused and glanced at her.

Fallon's P.O.V.

* * *

Fallon was using everything she had to keep the closet door in place from the Hellhound's assault. She didn't think the door would hold up for much longer as the beast on the other side rammed repeatedly into it. And Fallon wasn't sure what would give first, the door or her power. She was caught in a silent debate over whether she should keep holding the attack off or let the beast through while she still had power to fight it. Just as she was about to pull her powers back from the door the attack stopped.

She looked over her shoulder at Sam who only shrugged warily. The three of them waited for the attack to resume, but when fifteen minutes passed and nothing happened Fallon told Sam to call Dean who confirmed Evan was released from his contract. Still feeling rather cautious, Fallon slipped through the door and checked the house and grounds outside for the Hellhound, but it was gone. She gave Sam and Evan the clear to leave the closet.

Sam poured the man a shot of whiskey while Fallon cleaned up the Goofer Dust. They had him mostly calmed down by the time Dean showed up to pick her and Sam up. They left with a firm assurance the Hellhound would not be back and hit the road.

Fallon couldn't stop thinking about her new power though. She had just noticed it today, but she was certain it had been going on for a while. Although she hadn't said anything to the boys she had been feeling quite on edge since the incident with the Yellow-eyed demon. She had thought it was just due to the demon stirring up that repressed memory, and although she was sure that was a part of it, she now thought she may also have been absorbing Sam's and Dean's emotions too.

Neither boy would like it, especially Dean. But so far, they hadn't realized it was happening, and she didn't intend to tell them. She didn't like to be deceitful, but it wasn't worth the fallout that would happen if they found out. Fallon had learned to control all other new powers that had surfaced before, she could do it again. She determined it was for everyone's best interest. She would stop drowning in their emotions, which would make it easier to deal with her own, and the two would be blissfully unaware their own emotions had been tampered with. She relaxed with the decision made.

With her attention now in the present she realized they were pulling into a motel's parking lot. Sam grumbled something about him getting the room and Dean handling the luggage before walking towards the building. Fallon slipped out of the car and popped the trunk and started to reach for a bag before Dean stopped her.

"I have to tell you something," he said, and she tensed, worried he'd realized what happened earlier.

"What is it?" she asked, trying to keep the nerves out of her voice.

"The demon, she offered to make a deal to bring you back," Dean told her.

"It could do that?" Fallon questioned.

"Yeah," Dean answered looking down at the ground before looking back up at her, a pleading expression on his face. "I wanted to make that deal for you, Fallon. You deserve to be human again. You deserve to live. More than Evan Hudson does. Hell, more than anybody deserves it. I just couldn't do it. I'm sor…"

Fallon hugged him tightly before he could finish his sentence. She looked up at him, her chin resting on his chest since she didn't let go of the hug. "You don't have anything to apologize for, Dean," she told him before finally taking a step back. "My life is not worth yours."

Dean chuckled darkly. "I think that's a matter of opinion."

"Dean," Fallon said placing both hands on either side of his face, "it's a fact. Thank you for not taking that deal." Dean swallowed thickly before something in his face cracked. Fallon wrapped her arms around him as he buried his face in her shoulder. She thought about her promise about her new power and carefully concentrated on taking this pain away from Dean. After all, she figured, he didn't have to carry everything on his shoulders.


	8. Chapter 8 Part A

**Author's Note:** First, I would like to apologize for the late update. This not my favorite episode so I was feeling pretty unmotivated to work on this chapter. On top of that I've had two very busy weekends that didn't leave room for writing. I am hoping to get back on schedule with remaining chapters. Second, you may notice the title of the chapter says part A. That's because this episode directly leads into the next so I am combining them. If you read this story from season one you know I do this occasionally. I hope you enjoy the chapter. If you have time please leave a review. Thanks for reading!

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Supernatural. All rights belong to the creators and writers of the show.

* * *

"There are only two towns in the U.S. named Rivergrove," Sam said tensely from the passenger seat of the Impala.

"How come you're so sure it's the one in Oregon?" Dean questioned.

"There was a picture," Sam muttered. "Crater Lake."

"What else did you see in this vision?" Fallon asked. As they normally did, Sam's vision came on quickly and unexpectedly. And just like they normally did, they found themselves trying to catch up and prevent the disaster from happening with the limited information Sam got from his visions.

"I saw a dark room, some people, and a guy tied to a chair," Sam said.

"And I ventilated him?" Dean added, remembering a detail Sam left out.

"Yeah," Sam admitted. "You thought there was something inside him."

"Like a demon?" Fallon questioned.

"I don't know," Sam replied.

"Well, all your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed demon somehow," Dean said, "so was there any black smoke? Did we try to exorcise it?"

"No," Sam said. "Nothing, you just plugged him, that's it."

"Well, I'm sure I had a good reason," Dean said defensively.

"I sure hope so," Sam replied.

"What does that mean?" Dean cried indignantly. Sam remained silent. "I mean, I'm not gonna waste an innocent man."

"We know that, Dean," Fallon said placatingly while glaring pointedly at Sam. "These visions are spotty. Sam's just telling you what he saw. Who's to say further methods weren't taken first, right, Sam?"

"Right," Sam sighed. "Look, we don't know what it is. But whatever it is, that guy in the chair's a part of it. So let's find him and see what's what."

"Fine," Dean replied tersely.

"Fine," Sam answered in the same tone.

"You two are idiots," Fallon grumbled in the backseat as they pulled into Rivergrove.

Dean parked the car in front of one of the shops on the main road and they all got out and walked up to a guy polishing his rifle. "Morning."

"Good morning," the man said glancing up at them. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah," Dean replied pulling a fake badge out of his coat pocket. "Uh, Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard. U.S. Marshals."

The man looked past them right at Fallon. "And the girl?"

Fallon jumped, but quickly schooled her expression to keep the surprise off her face. "Regina Simpson. I'm a new recruit. They have me shadowing these two." She crossed her fingers hoping the man would buy her explanation.

"What's this about?" the man asked, and she sighed a breath of relief.

"We're looking for someone," Dean answered.

"A young man, early twenties," Sam filled in. "He'd have a thin scar right below his hairline."

"What'd he do?" the man asked.

"Well, nothing," Sam replied. "We're actually looking for someone else, but we think this young man could help us."

"He's not in trouble," Fallon added.

"I think maybe you know who he is, Master Sergeant," Dean said. "My dad was in the Corps, he was a Corporal."

"What company?" the man asked.

"Echo 2-1," Dean answered.

"So, can you help us?" Sam pushed.

"Duane Tanner's got a scar like that, but I know him," the man said. "Good kid. Keeps his nose clean."

"Oh, I'm sure he does," Dean answered. "You know where he lives?"

"With his family up Aspen Way," the man replied.

"Thank you," Dean answered.

They began to walk back to the car when Sam suddenly called them over to him. He referenced a telephone pole he was standing in front of. Fallon glanced puzzledly at the pole and then her eyes widened as she read a word carved into it.

"Croatoan?" she said. "What does that have to do with anything here?"

"Croatoan?" Dean repeated sounding confused.

"Yeah," Sam answered waiting for Dean to catch on, but he just gave them both a blank look. "Roanoke? Lost colony? Seriously, Dean, did you not pay any attention in history class?"

"Yeah!" Dean replied defensively. "Shots heard round the world, how bills become laws…"

"That's not school," Sam sighed. "That's Schoolhouse Rock."

"Whatever," Dean muttered.

"It's not whatever, it's history," Fallon said. "Roanoke was one of the first English colonies in America. It was set up in the late 1500s, but it didn't last. When a ship returned from England some time later all the people in the colony had disappeared. And all they could find was a single word carved into a tree, Croatoan. And nobody really knows what happened to these colonists! There are theories. Some people believe they all died in an Indian raid. Others think disease took them out, but no one knows for sure. They were just gone. Almost like they were wiped out overnight."

"You don't think that's what's going on here?" Dean questioned sounding nervous. "I mean…"

"Whatever I saw in my head, it sure wasn't good," Sam said. "But what do you think could do that?"

"Fear," Fallon answered. "Fear makes people do irrational things. It leads to paranoia, suspicion, and mistrust. That's what your vision seems to show."

"But what could cause fear like that to happen in some no where town in Oregon?" Sam asked.

"Well, I mean, like I said," Dean replied. "All of your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow so…"

"Maybe he's causing it," Fallon finished.

"We should get help," Sam stated. "Bobby, uh, Ellen maybe?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Dean agreed.

"I don't think that's going to be an option," Fallon said.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"There's no signal for your cell phones, and all the phone lines in this town are cut," Fallon answered. "We can't reach anybody from here."

"I'll tell you one thing," Dean commented after a moment of shocked silence, "if I was gonna massacre a town, that'd be my first step."

"If this is something to do with the demon, do you think maybe one of the special children are behind this?" Fallon asked. "That's usually who Sam's visions focus on."

"Well, there's one way to find out," Sam said. "We need to talk to this Duane Tanner guy."

The three walked up to cabin that had a sign stuck to the mailbox with the name Tanner on it. It looked like your typical home, but Fallon felt on edge just looking at it. "I'm feeling something, guys," she told Sam and Dean.

"We'll be on alert," Dean replied as they got out of the Impala and walked up to the front door. Dean knocked and a moment later a teenaged boy opened the door.

"Yeah?" he asked.

Dean quickly flashed his fake badge at the kid. "We're looking for Duane Tanner, he lives here, right?"

"Yeah, he's my brother," the kid replied.

"Do you know where he is?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn Lake," the teen replied.

"Your parents home?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, they're inside," the teen replied as an older man walked up behind him. The man looked concerned.

"Hi. U.S. Marshals, sir," Dean addressed the man. "We're looking for your son, Duane."

"Why?" Mr. Tanner asked nervously. "He's not in trouble, is he?"

"No, no, no, no," Dean assured him. "We just need to ask him a couple of routine questions, that's all."

"When's he due back from his trip?" Sam asked.

"I'm not sure," Mr. Tanner replied evasively.

"He sounds like he knows where he is," Fallon commented.

"I don't," Mr. Tanner replied quickly. "And you're with them?"

"She's new," Sam said. "Can we speak with your wife?"

"She's not here right now," Mr. Tanner told them.

"Your son said she was," Fallon said.

"Did I?" the teen asked nervously.

"She's getting groceries," Mr. Tanner said. "So, when Duane gets back, there's a number where he can get a hold of you?"

"Oh no, we'll just check in with you later," Dean replied. They turned and began to walk back to the Impala. When they heard the door close, they stopped and turned to look at each other. "So, that was kind of creepy, right? A little too Stepford?"

"Something is going on in that house," Fallon said. "We need to get inside."

The group quickly sidled down the side of the house and peered in through a window in the back. Inside, a woman, presumably Mrs. Tanner, was tied to a chair. In front of her stood her husband and son wielding a knife. Without preamble Fallon lifted her hand and blasted the back door open. Mr. Tanner began to rush them with a knife, but Dean blasted him with his gun. The kid jumped through the window and ran. Fallon saw Sam raise his gun to aim for the kid but slowly lowered it. She then turned her attention to Mrs. Tanner who was sobbing in the chair she was tied to.

"Don't worry," she said. "We'll get you out of here." She began to work with the knots while Dean wrapped up Mr. Tanner and brought him to the Impala. Sam helped her with the rope and then the two lead her out of the house to the car.

In a few minutes after leaving the house they pulled up in front of the hospital clinic Mrs. Tanner had directed them to. Fallon and Sam helped the woman inside.

"Hello?" Sam called out. "Hello? We need a doctor here!"

A young woman rushed out from a backroom and her eyes widened when they landed on them. "Mrs. Tanner, what happened?" she asked rushing forward.

"She's been attacked," Sam replied.

"Doctor Lee?" the woman called over her shoulder.

A woman in a doctor's coat stepped out from the back room. "Bring her in," she urged. The woman who'd first came out, her name tag read Pam, lead them to a back room. Before they could get there Dean came in with Mr. Tanner's corpse over his shoulder. "Is that…"

"Mr. Tanner?" Dean finished.

"Was he attacked too?" the doctor asked.

"Uh… no, actually, he did the attacking and then he got himself shot," Dean replied.

"You could say that a little less casually," Fallon grumbled. Dean shrugged.

"Who are you three?" Dr. Lee asked.

"U.S. Marshals," Dean said. "I'd show you my badge, but…"

"Oh. Sorry," Dr. Lee replied. "Bring him back here."

When they had everyone settled in a backroom the doctor began to look over Mrs. Tanner, who began to tell them what happened. "They beat me," she cried. "They tied me up."

"I don't believe it," Pam murmured.

"Beverly, do you have any idea why they would act this way?" Dr. Lee asked. "Any history of chemical dependency?"

"No, of course not," Beverly replied. "I don't know why. One minute they were my husband and son, and the next, they had the devil in them."

Fallon and the boys shared a glance. "We gotta talk," Dean announced to the room before motioning for Fallon and Sam to follow him out to the waiting room. When the door closed behind them, he turned to face them. "Those guys were whacked out of their gourds."

"Are we thinking possession?" Fallon asked. "Multiple demons in one place?"

"If it is a possession there could be more," Dean said. "I mean, God knows how many. It could be a friggin' Shriner convention."

"Great," Sam sighed.

"Of course, that's one way to wipe out a town, you take it from the inside," Dean said.

"That somewhat correlates to what I said earlier about fear," Fallon said. "But you wouldn't need a demon to possess a human to take them out that way. Maybe a demon was just the catalyst for all this."

"I don't know," Sam said. "We didn't see any of the demon smoke with Mr. Tanner, or any of the other usual signs."

"Something turned him into a monster," Dean stated. "And you know, if you would have taken out the other one there'd be one less to worry about."

"I'm sorry, alright?" Sam replied tensely. "I hesitated, Dean. It was a kid!"  
"No, it was an "it"," Dean said. "Not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sam."

"Okay, that's enough," Fallon said stepping between the two and placing a hand on each of their shoulders. She felt both of their tension and anxiety flow into her. She took a deep breath in order to not let the emotions control her before giving them both a stern look. "Fighting will get us nowhere." Both boys nodded and relaxed. She let go of their shoulders. The door to the backroom opened and Dr. Lee stepped out.

"How's the patient?" Sam asked.

"Terrible!" Dr. Lee exclaimed. "What the hell happened out there?"

"We don't know," Fallon answered.

"Yeah?" Dr. Lee replied angrily. "Well, you just killed my next-door neighbor."

"We didn't have a choice," Dean told her.

"Maybe so," Dr. Lee replied tersely, "but we need the county sheriff. I need the coroner…"

"Phones are down," Sam stated.

"I know, I tried," Dr. Lee said. "Tell me you have a police radio in the car?"

"Yeah, we do," Sam said. "But it crapped out just like everything else."

"I don't understand what is happening," Dr. Lee said, distress clear in her voice.

"Neither do we," Fallon said. "But we're going to figure it out."

"She's right," Dean said. "But our priority is getting everyone out of here. How far is it to the next town?"

"It's about forty miles down to Sidewinder," Dr. Lee answered.

"Alright, I'm gonna go down there, see if I can find some help," Dean said. "My partners will stick around, keep you guys safe."

"You're not going alone," Fallon said. "You need back up. Sam can keep an eye on things here, but I'm going with you."

"She's right, Dean," Sam agreed. "I'll keep an eye on things here. Take Fallon with you."

Dean nodded. "Keep everyone here safe," he said. "C'mon, Fallon."

Fallon dazed out the windows at the empty streets they passed by. She knew she should be thinking about their current case, but she couldn't help but dwell on the guilt she felt from using the new power she'd discovered. Since she'd figured out what she'd been doing during their case with the crossroads demon she'd been good about sticking to her promise to control it. She'd learned the signs for when she was using the power and had learned how to stop it. But she'd also learned how to purposely use it; like she had just earlier with Sam and Dean.

She felt torn between feeling justified in her actions, after all, if Sam and Dean started fighting, they would lose focus on the case, and feeling guilty for messing with their emotions without their knowledge or consent. She knew both boys would be upset with her if they found out. So far, both seemed completely ignorant of her new power and she wanted to keep it that way. She just needed to stiffen her resolve and let the boys work their emotions out themselves.

"Are you okay?"

"What?" Fallon jumped.

"You're rather pensive over there," Dean commented.

"I was just thinking it's strange," Fallon said, "that everyone in this town seems able to see me."

"I think it has something to do with what's going on here," Dean said.

"Yeah, I agree. It's just… it's funny," she said. Dean gave her a confused look. "From the moment I died all I've wanted is for people to see me, and now that they can… I don't know, it just doesn't feel natural."

"I think you're just not used to it anymore," Dean said.

"I guess," Fallon replied before turning forward to look at the windshield. She frowned. Ahead of them a blockade of several cars and armed locals locked them in the city. "Dean."

"Oh great," he muttered as he slowed to a stop.

Fallon jumped as something thumped against the roof of the car. "Dean, I think we should leave," she whispered just as a man approached the driver's window.

"Sorry," the man said. "Roads closed."

"Yeah, I can see that," Dean said casually. "What's up?"

"Quarantine," the man answered.

"Quarantine?" Dean repeated. "What is it?"

"Don't know," the man replied. "Something going around out there."

"Uh-huh," Dean said slowly. "Who told you that?"

"County Sheriff," the man said.

"Is he here?" Fallon asked.

The man glanced at her. "No," he replied. "He called. Say, why don't you two get out of the car and we'll talk a little?"

"Like hell," Fallon said nervously glancing at the people in front of them. They were moving closer.

"I'd sure appreciate it if you got out of the car, just for a quick minute," the man said again. This time more threateningly.

"And I said not happening," Fallon replied using her power to knock the gear into reverse and slam down the gas pedal.

"Jesus!" Dean exclaimed as the locals started firing at them.

Fallon, using her power, slammed on the breaks, and then shifted them back into drive before turning them around and slamming on the gas again. When they had cleared the barricade Dean finally protested.

"Okay, stop! Stop!" he shouted. Fallon listened. "I can't believe you just messed with baby."

"I just saved our lives!" Fallon cried. "You're really going to complain about me controlling the car?! Your car would have become part of the blockade if you'd sat there any longer!"

"Okay, okay!" Dean grumbled before stepping on the gas again. "Quick thinking."

Fallon sighed. "So, what are we going to do now?"

"I know you don't want to leave me and Sam, but I think you're going to have to go for help," Dean said. "Get Bobby or Ellen. Both if you can."

"Not possible," Fallon answered. "I can't teleport out of here. I've been trying since we realized the phones are down. I'm just as stuck here as everyone else."

"Dammit!" Dean cried punching the wheel. He took a few deep breaths before saying anything else. "We'll head back to the clinic. Figure it out from there."

"Dean, what if we can't?" Fallon asked. "Figure it out, I mean."

Dean looked over at her. "We will. I promise," he told her.

Fallon nodded and then looked back at the road as she saw someone running out of the woods. "Look out!" Dean slammed on the breaks and they stopped just feet away from a man carrying a large rifle.

"Get out of the car!" the man screamed. "Out of the car!" Dean and Fallon glanced at each other before slowly stepping out of the Impala.

"Alright, easy there, big guy," Dean said and then quickly aimed a hand gun at him. Fallon got ready to use her power if they guy started to pull the trigger to the rifle. "Put it down!"

"Lower it now!" the man barked back.

"Put it down!" Dean repeated.

"Are you one of them?" the man asked.

"No!" Dean cried. "Are you?"

"No!"

"You could be lying!" Dean said.

"So could you!"

"Oh, this is ridiculous!" Fallon shouted stepping between the boys. "Both of you drop your weapons for a minute." After a moment both lowered their weapons by a few degrees.

"What's going on with everybody?" the man asked.

"We don't know," Dean answered.

"My neighbor… Mr. Rogers, he…"

"You've got a neighbor named Mr. Rogers?" Fallon and Dean asked amused.

"Not anymore," the man said. "He came at me with a hatchet. I put him down. He's not the only one, I mean, it's happening to everyone."

"We're heading over to the Doc's place," Dean told the man. "There's still some people left."

"No. No way," the man said. "I'm getting the hell out."

"There isn't a way out," Fallon told him. "They've set up a barricade at the only way out of town. We're trapped. Come with us."

"I don't believe you," the man said.

"Fine," Dean replied moving back to the car. "Stay here. Be my guest." The man hesitated before pulling out a hand gun, which he kept trained on Dean and Fallon as he slid into the backseat.

"Well, this ought to be a relaxing drive," Fallon muttered.

When they got back to the clinic the three of them rushed for the door. Dean began to bang on it. "Sammy, open up!"

The door swung open to reveal Sam's relieved face. "Did you get to a phone?" he asked.

"There's a road block," Fallon told Sam as the guy who'd rode in with them, he'd told them his name was Mark, went into the back room. "Nobody can leave."

"What's going on out there?" Sam asked them when the room cleared.

"I don't know," Dean replied. "I feel like Chuck Heston in the Omega Man. I mean, Sarge is the only sane person we could find. What are we dealing with, do you know?"

"Yeah," Sam answered. "Doc thinks it's a virus."

"A virus?" Fallon repeated. "I've never heard of a virus that could do this. What do you think?"

"I think she's right," Sam said.

"Really?" Dean said.

"Yeah," Sam said. "And I think the infected are trying to infect others with blood-to-blood contact. Oh, but it gets better. The, uh, the virus? Leaves traces of sulfur in the blood."

"A demonic virus?" Dean exclaimed.

"Yeah, more like demonic germ warfare," Sam said. "At least it explains why I've been having visions."

"This is crazy," Fallon muttered resting her forehead in her hand.

"It's like a Biblical plague," Dean commented without humor.

"You don't know how right you are, Dean," Sam said. "I've been poring through Dad's journal, and I found something about the Roanoke colony."

"And?" Dean questioned.

"Dad always had a theory about Croatoan," Sam said. "He thought it was a demon's name. Sometimes known as Deva or sometimes Resheph. A demon of plague and pestilence."

"But Roanoke was hundreds of years ago," Fallon commented. "Nothing like that has happened since. Why here? And why now?"

"I have no idea," Sam replied. "But who knows how far this thing can spread. We have to get out of here. We have to warn people."

"They've got one!" Mark's voice called from the back room before they could continue their conversation. "In here!"

"What do you mean you have one?" Fallon asked rushing into the back room.

"The wife," Sam answered from behind her. "She's infected."

"We've gotta take care of this," Mark said. "We can't just leave her in there. My neighbors, they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she'll get." Dean nodded and started to walk towards the locked door with his gun in hand.

"You're gonna kill Beverly Tanner?" Pam asked dismayed.

"Doctor, could there be any treatment?" Sam asked. "Some kind of cure for this?"

"I don't even know what "it" is," the doctor replied.

"I told you, it's just a matter of time before she breaks through," Mark said, agitated.

"Just leave her in there!" Pam cried. "You can't shoot her like an animal!"

"I don't think we have a choice," Dean said continuing to the door with Mark in tow. They budged open the door and then a gun shot rang out through the lab. Fallon glanced away.

As the hours passed the anxiety grew. Fallon listened as the group bickered about whether they should attempt to escape or if they were safer here. She felt as if she were in a daze. It was like watching a bad movie and she couldn't leave the theatre.

"This is what it's like to see society break down," she murmured.

"Well, one thing's for sure," Sam said, "we can't stay here. We've gotta get out of here. Get to the Roadhouse. Somewhere. We need to let people know what's coming."

"Yeah, good point," Dean commented gruffly. "Night of the Living Dead didn't exactly end pretty."

"Well, I'm not sure we've got a choice," Mark said joining their conversation. "Lots of folks up here are good with rifles. Even with all your hardware we're easy targets. So, unless you've got some explosives…"

"We can make some," Fallon said interrupting him. She grabbed an empty bottle and turned back to face the three men with a smile. "Molotov Cocktail, anyone?"

"Fallon, you're brilliant!" Dean exclaimed grabbing the bottle off her.

"Glad you're just catching on to that," Fallon replied snarkily, but smiling. "Hey, Doctor Lee, where do you keep your Potassium Chloride?!" She and the boys explained to the doctor and Pam how to make the explosives and the group got to work. They had a few done before someone started banging on the door. Fallon followed the boys out front. Mark was right behind her.

"Hey!" a man cried from outside. "Let men in! Let me in! Please!"

"It's Duane Tanner," Mark commented. He pushed passed them and opened the door for the man, who stumbled in. "Duane, you okay?"

Fallon noticed Sam staring in shock at the guy who just joined their party. "Sam, you okay?" she asked.

"That's the guy who…"

"Who I wasted in your vision?" Dean finished.

"Yeah," Sam said.

"Who else is here?" Duane asked drawing their attention away from Sam's vision.

"Hey, easy there chief," Dean addressed the guy suspiciously. "Hey Doc!" The doctor stepped out of the lab and started warily at the new comer. "Give Duane a good once-over, would you?" She beckoned them all into the lab.

"Who are you?" Duane asked aggravated.

"Never mind who I am," Dean snapped. "Doc."

"Yeah, okay," Doctor Lee agreed.

"Duane, where have you been?" Mark asked.

"On a fishing trip up Roslyn," Duane answered. "I came back this afternoon. I…I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house by people we know! They started cutting him with knives! I ran. I've been hiding in the woods ever since. Has anybody seen my mom and dad?"

"They didn't make it," Fallon told him as Dean shifted uncomfortably.

"You're bleeding," Doctor Lee said staring at a gash on Duane's leg.

"Where'd you get that?" Dean asked.

"I was running," Duane said. "I must have tripped."

"Tie him up," Dean ordered. "There's rope in there."

"Wait…"

"Sit down!" Dean cried pulling his gun on him.

"I'm sorry, Duane," Mark said. "He's right. We've got to be careful."

"Careful?" Duane cried. "About what?"

"Did they bleed on you?" Dean asked.

"No!" Duane replied.

"Doc?" Sam interjected. "Any way to know for sure? Any test?"

"I've studied the bloodwork backwards and forwards," Doctor Lee said. "It took three hours for the virus to incubate. The sulfur didn't appear in the blood until then so no, there'd be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane turns."

"Dean, I gotta talk to you, now," Sam said stepping out of the room. Dean and Fallon followed him out. He turned to face them. "This is my vision. It's happening."

"Yeah, I figured," Dean replied.

"You can't kill him, alright?" Sam pleaded. "Not yet. We don't know if he's infected or not."

"Well, I think we're pretty damn sure," Dean said. "He shows up out of nowhere, he's got a cut on his leg, his whole family's infected?"

"None of that proves anything, Dean," Fallon said.

"Fallon's right," Sam said. "We should keep him tied up, and we should wait and see."

"For what?!" Dean cried. "For him to Hulk out and infect somebody else? No thanks. We can't take that chance." Fallon's eyes widened when Dean started to shove Sam back towards the wall behind him. Sam braced a hand against his chest to stop him. "Hey, I'm not happy about this either, but it's a tough job and you know that."

"It's supposed to be tough, Dean," Sam said. "We're supposed to struggle with this, that's the whole point!"

"What does that buy us?" Dean grouched.

"A clear conscience, for one!" Sam cried.

Dean shoved him back again. "Well, it's too late for that."

"What the hell's happened to you?" Sam asked holding him off again. Fallon watched with her anxiety peaking. She could feel anger and fear radiating off both boys as they argued. She knew she shouldn't use her new power, but she was afraid of what might happen if she did nothing. Dean shoving Sam again made her decision for her.

"That's enough!" she cried stepping between them and placing on hand on each of their chests. Immediately, she felt anger and fear start to build inside her, but she grit her teeth and forced the emotion back. "You're acting like the infected." She felt Sam relax and he took a step back.

"She's right," Sam said. Dean looked like he was going to argue so she concentrated on her power a little more and finally he nodded his head.

"Yeah," he agreed stepping back. "She's…" But the second he stepped out of her touch his anger stirred back up. "No, wait a minute, we need to…"

"Dean," she said placing a hand on his shoulder. "We need to give this guy a chance."

"You're right," Dean sighed, "we…" Shock filled his eyes and he took a step back from her as if she'd slapped him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm not doing anything," she replied quickly.

"Yeah you are," Dean cried. "You're… you're…."

"Dean, she didn't do anything," Sam said coming to her defense. Fallon winced guiltily.

"Yeah, she is," Dean insisted. "She's messing with our emotions! She's messing with our heads!"

"That's ridiculous," Sam said. "Fallon would never do that."

"She just did!" Dean said. "When she touched us, we both calmed down, didn't we?"

Fallon watched as doubt filled Sam's face. He turned to face her. "Fallon?"

"I had to," she whispered.

"See?!" Dean cried.

"I had to!" Fallon repeated. "You were going to hurt each other!"

"How long have you been messing with our emotions?" Dean asked angrily.

"Dean, that's enough. Back off…"

"I don't know," Fallon admitted cutting off Sam.

Dean snorted. "I don't know why I'm surprised. You are a ghost after all."

"Oh, again with the ghost thing!" Fallon snapped glowering at him. "I can't control when I get a new power. Why is it always the same thing every time one surfaces?"

"Because it proves that you're becoming vengeful!" Dean shouted. "That you're going to become evil!"

"I'm evil?" Fallon cried. "You were the one who was going to blast that guy's brains out without waiting to see if he is infected!"

"I'm just trying to keep these people safe," Dean said.

"So am I!" Fallon said.

"Alright, alright!" Sam cut in. "Fighting's not going to solve anything."

"Yeah, only one thing will solve our current problem," Dean huffed pulling out his gun and heading back to the lab.

"Dean!" Sam cried starting to follow him, before stopping with a sigh and turning to face Fallon. "How long have you been able to manipulate our emotions?"

"Why should I answer you?" Fallon snapped. "So you can call me evil too?"

"I don't think you're evil, Fallon," Sam sighed. "Neither does Dean. He's just freaked out. You know how he gets…"

"Yeah, I do!" Fallon cried. "Every time I get a new power. It's the same story over and over again!" Fallon turned and grabbed a pillow off the waiting room couch and threw it across the room before turning back to face Sam, who looked shocked at her actions. "I'm sick of it! I'm sick of being treated like public enemy number one by him every time I do something I…" She felt angry tears burn her eyes but she refused to let them fall. "I'm sick of it."

"I know," Sam said. "I get it."

They stood in silence for a few moments before she felt her anger diminish. "I don't know when this power developed," she said. "Probably awhile. I only noticed it recently. I've been learning to control it, so it doesn't happen anymore, but… I thought it was necessary in this instance."

"I'd say you made a good call," Sam stated. "I didn't hear a gun shot. So what you did worked."

Fallon shook her head. "He was worked up again when he walked away," she said. "He decided not to shoot him on his own."

"Well, let's go work out a game plan," Sam said.

"You go," Fallon replied.

"Fallon…"

"I don't want to be near him right now, Sam," Fallon said. Sam nodded and went in the lab. Fallon took a few deep breaths before picking up the pillow she'd thrown. She stayed out in the waiting room for awhile until she felt she'd cooled down enough to re-enter the lab. She quickly got to work helping Pam and Doctor Lee work on the explosives. Even after they'd made all the explosives they could she stayed away from the boys. She didn't want to deal with Dean.

She went back out to the waiting room to get some space. With nothing to do she started flipping through outdated magazines. She was about halfway through one when she heard banging around coming from the lab. Fallon tossed the magazine down and hurried back into the lab to see them all huddled around the supply closet.

"She bled on him," she heard Mark say.

"Bled on who?" Fallon asked pushing to the front of the group. She froze as she saw Sam on the ground in the closet and Pam's dead body lying next to him. "No!"

"Alright, everyone, back up," Dean ordered hauling Sam to his feet and ushering him over to a stool. "Doctor, check his wound."

"What's she need to examine him for?" Mark questioned. "You saw what happened."

"Did her blood actually enter your wound?" Doctor Lee asked.

"Come on, of course it did!" Mark shouted.

"We don't know that for sure," Dean replied testily.

"We can't take a chance," Duane said.

"We did on you," Fallon snapped.

"You know what we have to do," Mark told them.

"Nobody is shooting my brother!" Dean cried.

"He isn't gonna be your brother much longer," Duane said. "You said it yourself."

"Nobody is shooting anyone!" Dean snapped back.

"You were gonna shoot me!" Duane cried.

"You don't shut your pie-hole, I still might," Dean threatened.

"Dean, they're right," Sam intervened. "I'm infected. Just give me the gun and I'll do it myself."

"Absolutely not," Fallon said at same time Dean said, "Forget it."

"Dean, I'm not gonna become one of those things," Sam insisted.

"Sam, we've still got some time," Dean said.

"Time for what?" Mark cried. "Look, I understand he's your brother, and I'm sorry, I am. But we gotta take care of this."

"I'm gonna say this one time," Dean ground out, "you make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground. Understand?"

"Then what are we supposed to do?!" Mark shouted.

Dean hesitated before pulling out his keys and tossing them to Fallon. "Get out of here. Take the explosives and get the weapons out of the trunk. You've got enough firepower to handle anything now."

"What about you?" Mark asked. Dean grabbed a stool and sat down beside Sam.

"Dean, no," Sam said. "Go with them. This is your only chance!"

"You're not getting rid of me that easy," Dean replied and then looked at Fallon. "What are you waiting for, Fallon? Get out of here."

Fallon looked away from him and right at Sam. She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. She felt his arms wrap around her waist and squeeze gently. She pulled away and gave him a watery smile. "Bye, Sam," she whispered.

"Goodbye, Fallon," Sam replied sadly.

Fallon saw Dean open his mouth to say something, but she didn't give him the chance to say anything. She turned around to face the others. "Let's go," she ordered and led them out of the clinic. "Mark, you're up front with me."

"Got it," Mark agreed.

As they approached the bridge Fallon gave out orders. "When we get there, nobody hesitate. You shoot down anyone who takes a step toward you and then you toss the explosives at them. Mark, you hold them off us while we push the cars out of the way. Everyone understand?"

"Yes," they all answered.

"Good," Fallon said and took a deep breath before rounding the curve that brought the bridge in view. No one was there. She drove them closer and then stopped the car a few feet in front of the parked cars.

"What the hell?" Mark muttered.

"Doctor Lee, stay in the car," Fallon said. "Mark and Duane, come with me." The two men followed her out of the Impala and they carefully approached the blockade and peered into the cars. They found no one.

"What do you think happened?" Duane asked.

"No idea," Fallon replied.

"Do you think they went back into town?" Duane questioned again.

"No," Mark said confused. "There was no one in town."

"Well, what should we do?" Duane asked.

"I can drive you lot out of here to the next town if you want," Fallon said, "but I'm going back."

"Let's go let your partners know about this," Mark decided after a moment. "Maybe you can talk Dean into leaving his brother behind."

"I wouldn't count on it," Fallon replied. They went back to the car and let the doctor know their new plan. She seemed more hesitant but didn't protest as they turned around. Fallon drove through the streets of the town for a bit to see if they could find anyone, but everyone was gone. With that determined she brought them back to the clinic. She rushed out of the car and headed back to the lab. Both boys looked over at her as she came in.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked. "Why aren't you getting everyone out?"

"You need to see this," she told them and walked right back out of the lab. She heard both boys follow her. They stepped out into the parking lot and joined the group.

"What the…"

"There's no one," Dr. Lee stated. "Not anywhere. They've all just… vanished."

"I think we can agree it's safe to wait and see if this virus will appear in Sam, now," Fallon said. "After all, if he is infected, we only have to deal with one of them." She saw that Duane and Mark disagreed, but they didn't argue.

"I'll take a blood sample," Doctor Lee said. "Let's see what happens."

"Great," Fallon said. "I'll stay with you two. The rest of you, scour through town. See if there's any survivors."

"Yes, ma'am," Mark and Duane quickly agreed.

"Wait, a minute…"

"Dean, go with them," Sam urged. "You'll be back quickly enough." Dean didn't look happy but followed the other two out of the parking lot.

Fallon waited with Sam as the hours passed and finally Doctor Lee looked up from her microscope. "It's been five hours and your blood's still clean," she said. "I don't understand it, but I think you dodged a bullet."

"Oh, thank God," Fallon sighed slumping against Sam's side. He wrapped an arm around her and smiled before glancing back at the doctor.

"I was exposed, though," he said. "How could I not be infected?"

"I don't know," Doctor Lee replied. "You're just not. I mean, you compare it with the Tanner samples…what the hell?"

"What?" Fallon and Sam asked.

"Their blood," Dr. Lee said looking back up from the microscope. "There's no trace of the virus. No sulfur. Nothing." Silence settled over them.

"Let's just get out of here," Fallon said. They went and joined Dean.

The group was saying their goodbyes, but Fallon ignored them mostly. Although she wanted out of this town as quickly as possible, she didn't want to be around Dean still. She had thought of leaving, but she didn't want to go back to having nothing to do with her days, so she'd decided to stay. But she had no intention of putting up with Dean's behavior towards her this time. She'd help on their cases and that's it. The rest of her time, she'd spend elsewhere. And her resolve was firm, so she ignored the olive branch Dean was trying to extend to her as they got in the car. She stared out the window as the town disappeared behind them.


	9. Chapter 8 Part B

**Author's Note:** This chapter went a little differently than I expected it to, but I am pretty happy with it. I hope you all enjoy the chapter. If you have time please leave a review! Reviews help keep me motivated while writing the next chapter. Thanks for reading!

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own anything from Supernatural. All rights belong to the writers and creators of the show.

* * *

Fallon glanced up when she felt the Impala slow and then stop. Her already considerable scowl deepened as she realized they had not arrived at a motel. She desperately wanted time away from Dean, but she didn't want to expend her energy trying to track them down when she didn't know where they were, so she'd made the decision to ride with them until they reached a motel. However, that decision had just brought her more aggravation. The day seemed to be dragging on, and Dean didn't seem to get the hint that she wasn't interested in making up with him. Luckily, Sam had stepped in and told his brother to let her alone.

Fallon had not cooled down at all between then and now. And she felt the anger in her chest burn dangerously at this delay. She watched as the boys grabbed a can of beer out of the trunk before wandering a few feet away from the car. She was tempted to just sit here and stew, but finally popped out of the car and stalked a few feet away from the boys. If she was going to be stuck here while the boys let off steam she might as well enjoy the view. And it was a view!

She stared out at the rolling green landscape before her. The long grass of the meadow swayed in the light breeze. A scattering of wild flowers could be seen poking their heads above the grass throughout the meadow. Fallon's eyes enjoyed a startling red flower before glancing at flowers that were a delicate purple and then bright yellow. She wondered how many animals were currently enjoying the shelter of the long grass or who had made their home there. She enjoyed the view so much she had forgotten she wasn't alone. Sam's raised voice brought her attention back to her travel mates.

"No, no, no, Dean," Sam protested. "You're my brother, alright? So whatever weight you're carrying, let me help a little bit."

"I can't," Dean said. "I promised."

"Who?" Sam asked.

"Dad," Dean answered.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

Dean looked down at the ground. "Right before he died, he told me something," he said quietly. "He told me something about you."

"What?" Sam asked. "Dean, what did he tell you?"

"He said that he wanted me to watch out for you," Dean said. "To take care of you."

"He told you that a million times," Sam said dismissively.

"No, this time was different," Dean said. "He said that I had to save you."

"Save me from what?" Sam asked.

"He just said that I had to save you, that nothing else mattered, and that if I couldn't, I'd…"

"You'd what, Dean?" Sam cried.

"That I'd have to kill you," Dean said. "He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy."

"And you agreed?!" Fallon asked horrified.

"No, no I…"

"Kill me?" Sam repeated having found his voice after a moment of shock. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know," Dean whispered.

"I mean, he must have had some kind of reason for saying it, right?" Sam said. "Did he know the demon's plans for me? Am I supposed to go Darkside or something? What else did he say, Dean?"

"Nothing," Dean answered quickly. "That's it. I swear."

"How could you not have told me this?!" Sam cried angrily.

"Because it was Dad, and he begged me not to," Dean said.

"Who cares?!" Sam shouted. "Take some responsibility for yourself, Dean! You had no right to keep this from me!"

"You think I wanted this?!" Dean shouted back. "I wish to God he'd never opened his mouth. Then I wouldn't have to walk around with this screaming in my head all day." Fallon watched as Sam walked away a few steps before turning back to his brother.

"We've just got to figure out what's going on, then," he said. "What the hell all this means."

"We do?" Dean questioned. "I've been thinking about this. I think we should just lay low. At least for a while. It'd be safer. And that way I can make sure…"

"What? That I don't turn evil?" Sam said frostily. "That I don't turn into some kind of killer?"

"I never said that," Dean replied quickly.

"The implication was there," Fallon said nastily. Dean shot her a desperate look.

"Jeez, if you're not careful you will have to waste me one day, Dean," Sam said agreeing with Fallon.

"I never said that!" Dean cried. "Dammit, Sam, this whole thing is spinning out of control. Alright? You're immune to some weirdo demon virus, and I don't even know what the hell anymore. And you're pissed at me, I get it. So's Fallon. That's fine, I deserve it. But we lay low until we figure out our next move, okay?"

"Forget it," Sam said.

"Sam, please," Dean begged. "Just give me some time. Give me some time to think, okay? I'm begging you here, please. Please." Sam nodded before storming back to the call. Dean stared at her, pleading for some support. She rolled her eyes and followed Sam to the car.

Fallon leaned against the Impala and watched the motel room door open quietly as Sam stealthily snuck out. He had a bag over his shoulder and he started walking quickly away from the motel room.

"Going somewhere?" she asked.

Sam spun around in surprise, but relaxed when he saw her. "I thought you had taken off," he said quietly.

"I was going to, but I thought you were probably going to take off too," Fallon replied. Sam raised his eyebrows. "What? I'm with you almost 24/7, Sam. You think I don't know how this works? You and Dean get in a fight over something serious, and then you take off for a few days. I know you."

Sam sighed. "Look, just don't tell Dean you saw me leave," he pleaded. "At least try to get me twenty-four hours before he starts to try and track me down."

"Oh, I won't tell Dean anything," Fallon said. "I'm coming with you."

"Fallon, I need to figure this thing out," Sam said.

"Exactly," Fallon said. "That's why you need me with you."

"And the fact that you're pissed at Dean has nothing to do with your wanting to come along?" Sam said pointedly.

Fallon shrugged. "I think he can stew in his own panic for a little while," she said frostily.

Sam shook his head but smiled a little. "Alright, let's go." She followed him to a black car a few more feet away. Fallon popped into the car and unlocked it for him. She used her power to turn the car on and the two quickly drove away.

The next night they pulled up to the Roadhouse. Fallon took a glance at all the cars in the parking lot. "I'll meet you in Ash's office," she told him. "Knock on the wall when you're in there." She popped into the kitchen. While she waited for Sam's signal, she investigated the shelves. A variety of different food rested on them, but her own mother's kitchen had the Roadhouse beat. After a while of moving through the pantry she began to wonder if Sam had forgotten to signal her. She moved to the wall adjacent to Ash's office and got ready to tap on it to remind him when she heard someone walking around behind her.

She stuck her head out from behind the shelf. "Oh, hey, Ellen!"

Ellen jumped and glanced up at her. "Oh, it's just you. I should have guessed you might be here if Sam was."

"Yeah, he was supposed to let me know when he was with Ash, but I think he forgot," Fallon said.

"Actually, we discussed that out front," Ellen said. "Sam's at the bar."

"Ah," Fallon hummed. She began to walk through the shelves again while Ellen messed with something on the stove. Without realizing it, she began to pace back and forth.

"Something wrong?" Ellen asked.

"No," Fallon replied. "Everything's fine."

"Bull," Ellen said placing her hands on her hip. "You forget I raised a daughter. I can tell when something's up."

Fallon couldn't help the smile that crept on her face. "Okay," she said. "I'm pissed at Dean."

"Dean told me," Ellen said.

"He told you?" Fallon questioned.

"He's been calling looking for you and Sam," Ellen explained. "He said he and Sam got in a fight and you were pissed at him for something he said. He also said he was worried you weren't with Sam and had just left."

Fallon shrugged. "Let him worry," she said.

"He really fell into the deep end with you," Ellen said. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Fallon didn't, not really, but there was something about Ellen that reminded her strongly of her own mother. She couldn't stop herself from opening up to the woman. "He's such an asshole!" she cried.

Ellen didn't scold her for the language. Just nodded solemnly and leaned back against the counter to listen. "What happened?"

"He found out about this new power I developed," Fallon said and paused when she saw Ellen's eyebrows shoot up. "It happens once in a while."

"And what is this new power?" Ellen asked.

"Well…I can control other people's emotions," she replied sheepishly.

"And you were controlling his," Ellen said.

"His and Sam's," Fallon admitted, "but I had no choice! They were at each other's throats and acting irrationally. Someone was going to get hurt if I didn't step in."

"That's still a pretty big violation," Ellen told her gently.

"I know," Fallon said. "And when I first figured out about this new power, I quickly learned how to control it. Maybe it was the wrong decision to use it, but I didn't see any other option at the time."

"So, you think Dean shouldn't be mad at you for manipulating his emotions?" Ellen said.

"No," Fallon answered. "He had every right to be mad about that. But he does not have the right to treat me like a monster and call me inherently evil! I've never hurt anyone! I don't want to hurt anyone!" Fallon started pacing again. "And it's like this every time I get a new power. Every time! And you know, it's not my fault it happens. I didn't ask to have new powers. I didn't ask to be killed and come back as a ghost! I'm sick of him treating me like a walking time bomb!"

"I can see why you're upset," Ellen said placing a hand on her shoulder to hold her still. "It's not your fault that you were killed. What happened to you was awful and unfair. And you're not inherently evil."

"Tell Dean that," Fallon muttered.

"I don't have to," Ellen replied. "He knows that. He doesn't think you're evil." Fallon opened her mouth to argue but Ellen gave her the look. It was scarily like the one her own mother had always used on her when she was misbehaving. "You need to try and look into this from Dean's point of view. He was raised to be believe every monster and ghost are evil. It's hard to shake that notion after it was drilled into you from such a young age.

"Then you came along and you're proving that notion wrong. He has to adjust his way of thinking about his job and about ghosts and monsters as well. It's hard to do, and yet, after only knowing each other for a year and a half you two are actually pretty close. I know he cares about you. I've seen how you two interact. You're good friends. And I think the real reason he reacts so strongly when you develop a new power, is because he forgets that you're a ghost. It's a nasty reminder to him that you're not human. The fact that you're not alive anymore is not just a painful reminder to you.

"You've dug your way so deeply into his life that sometimes, I'm sure, he forgets you weren't always a part of it," Ellen said. "I know I haven't known either of you that long, but it's clear you both mean a lot to the other. Now I understand your own feelings are hurt, but you need to look past that to see Dean's point of view. And then you need to talk to him and tell him how he makes you feel when he calls you a monster or evil. If you two talked to each other about how you're feeling when something like this happens maybe you could avoid the fight."

"I don't think he really cares about me," Fallon said.

"Trust me, sweetheart," Ellen said softly, "he cares about you. If he didn't, he wouldn't be calling me every few hours asking if I've seen you or know where you are." Ellen patted her cheek. Fallon smiled. They both jumped when a knock sounded from the wall beside them.

"That's the signal Sam was supposed to give me," Fallon said.

"Well, you better go see what Ash found then," Ellen said.

Fallon nodded and popped into Ash's office. "That's just freaky," he grumbled.

"You get used to it," Sam said. "What did you find?"

"Four folks fit the profile nationwide," Ash told them. "Born in '83, mother died in a nursery fire, the whole shebang."

"Four?" Sam questioned. "That's it?"

"Sam Winchester from Lawrence, Kansas. Max Miller from Saginaw, Michigan. Andrew Gallagher from Guthrie, Oklahoma, and, uh, another name. Scott Carey."

"Does he have an address?" Fallon asked.

"Sort of," Ash replied. "The Arbor Hill Cemetery in Lafeyette, Indiana. Plot four-eighty-six."

"So, he's dead," Sam commented.

"Killed about a month ago," Ash told them.

"Killed how?" Sam asked.

"Stabbed," Ash said. "Parking lot. Fuzz don't have much. No suspects."

"Alright," Sam said. "Thank you."

"I'll meet you out in the car," Fallon told him before popping out to their stolen vehicle.

When they reached Lafeyette, Indiana they decided the best course of action would be to talk to the friends and family of the victim, like they would on any other case. After some quick research they discovered Scott had been living at home with his dad. When they arrived at the house Scott had lived in Sam went to the door to introduce himself to the man's father. Fallon had teleported into the house to search for any clues about Scott's powers.

She went to his bedroom first. It seemed to her like Scott had been having a tough time of it before his death. The mattress was bare, with a sleeping bag on top to replace any covers. The room was in slight disarray. Fallon glanced over the bookshelves, glancing at the titles of the books lining them. She also noticed there were quite a few cassette tapes scattered on the shelves as well.

The pills on the bedside table caught her eye. She lifted a bottle and read the prescription label. She quickly looked under the bed, but nothing unusual was there to be found. Still, a feeling of unease was quickly settling over her. She felt as if she were being watched, but when she looked over her shoulder no one was there. Her gaze shifted to the closed closet doors. Slowly, she rose to her feet and walked over to the closet and opened the doors. With growing dread, she shoved the hanging clothes aside and covered her mouth, forcing back a scream.

Yellow eyes stared out at her, covering the entire back wall of the closet. She began to shake as the memory of the last time she'd seen those eyes came over her. Unwillingly, she remembered both Sam and Dean pinned to the walls while she'd been helpless to help them. And then her mind slipped into an earlier memory, and she was back in that bedroom. And there was no escape.

Fallon forced herself back into the present with all her will. She slammed the closet door shut and popped out to the car. She gasped for breath as she fought to stay in control of herself. She curled her knees up to her chest and pressed her forehead to her knees. She took deep breaths in through her mouth, and out her nose until she felt herself gradually calm down. She was still shaking though, when Sam came back out to the car.

"What's wrong?" he asked concerned.

"Yellow eyes," Fallon replied.

Sam tensed and looked back at the house. "He's here?"

"No! No," Fallon said. "Sorry. I meant… Scott… he was seeing him. He had pictures of yellow eyes taped all over the walls of his closet."

Sam stared at her for another minute. "Are you okay?"

"No," Fallon answered honestly after a minute.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Sam asked.

"No, let's just focus on the case," Fallon said. "There's was nothing in his room stating what abilities he had, but he was seeing a psychologist, Dr. Waxler. He was on a prescription for anxiety among others."

"Alright," Sam said. "Good work, Fallon. Let's find a motel and call it a night."

"Yeah," Fallon agreed. "Sounds good."

They found the motel quickly and got a room. They were heading for the room when Fallon suddenly felt the presence of another person following them. "Sam."

"I know," he said and slowed his gait. The figure quickly caught up to them and when she was just a step away, Sam turned and grabbed them by their shoulders before shoving them up against the wall of the motel. "Who are you?"

"Please!" the girl cried. "You're in danger." Fallon and Sam shared a look before Sam let go of the girl.

"What do you mean in danger?" he asked.

"You're going to think I'm crazy," the girl sighed, looking slightly frantic.

"Trust me," Fallon said, "we're used to crazy."

"Why don't we take this inside?" Sam suggested. He pulled out the room key and opened the room door. He motioned for the girl to step in. Nervously, she did so. Fallon and Sam came in after her and watched as the girl paced the floor.

"Okay, look," she said after a moment. "I know how all this sounds, but I am not insane, and I am not on drugs. Okay? I am normal, and this is way, way off the map for me."

"Alright, alright," Sam said soothingly. "Just calm down, okay? What's your name?"

"Ava Wilson," the girl told them.

"Ava, I'm Sam Winchester," Sam said. "This is my friend, Fallon Romano. Now, what's all this about?"

"I don't even know where to start," Ava sighed.

"Why don't you start from the beginning?" Fallon suggested.

"Uh, yeah, okay," Ava replied. "About a year ago I started having these, like, headaches and just, nightmares, I guess. And I really didn't think much of it until I had this one dream where I saw this guy get stabbed in a parking lot."

"When was this?" Sam asked sharing a surprised look with Fallon.

"About a month ago," Ava said. "But, anyway, a couple of days later I found this." She pulled a crumpled-up newspaper article out of her pocket and handed it to Sam and Fallon. They both skimmed over the article. They shared another look when they realized the article was about the man they were investigating.

"I saw this guy dies, days before it happened," Ava continued to explain. "I don't know why, I don't know, it's just for some reason, my dreams are coming true. And last night I had another one."

"About Sam," Fallon said, catching on.

Ava nodded and looked at Sam. "I saw you die."

"How did you find me?" Sam asked.

"Oh," Ava answered surprised, "you had motel stationary, and I just Googled the motel, and it was real, and so I just thought that I should warn you."

"I don't believe this," Sam said.

"Oh, oh of course you don't," Ava said dismayed. "You think I'm a total nutjob."

"No, no," Fallon assured her. "That's not what he meant by that."

"Yeah, sorry," Sam said quickly. "I just meant, you must be one of us."

"Sorry, one of who?" Ava asked confused,

"One of the Psychics," Sam said emphatically. "Like me. Look, Ava, I have visions too, alright? So we're connected." Fallon winced as she saw the look of complete disbelief fill Ava's face. She didn't believe a word Sam said.

Ava laughed nervously. "Okay, so you're nuts. That's great."

"Look," Sam said, "did your mother happen to die in a house fire?"

"Sam…" Fallon started to say, but Ava cut her off.

"No, my mother lives in Palm Beach!" she cried.

"So you don't fit the pattern, either," Sam said ponderingly.

"What pattern?!" she cried and then shook her head. "You know what, why can't you just leave town? Please? Before you blow up?"

"No, I can't," Sam said.

"Oh, god," Ava sighed. "Why not?"

"Because there's something going on here, Ava," Sam replied. "With you, with me. I mean, there are others like us out there. And we're all a part of something, and I've got to figure out what."

"Okay, you know what?" Ava said taking a step back. "Screw you, buddy. Okay? Because I'm a secretary from Peoria and I'm not a part of anything! Okay?" She held out her left hand and shoved it in Sam's face. "Do you see this? I am getting married in eight weeks. I am supposed to be at home addressing invitations, which I am way behind on, by the way, but instead, I drove out here to save your weirdo ass. But if you just want to stay here and die, fine. Me? I'm due back on Planet Earth."

"You don't believe a word we're saying, do you?" Fallon said.

"Of course not!" Ava cried.

"What if I could prove it to you?" Fallon said.

"How could you prove anything to me?" Ava questioned.

"Easy. I'm a ghost," Fallon replied and then teleported to the other side of Ava. The girl looked at her in horror. "Relax. I won't hurt you. Do you believe me?" Slowly Ava nodded and turned to Sam.

"Don't you want to know why this is happening?" he questioned softly. "I mean, don't these visions scare the hell out of you? Because if you walk out the door right now, you might never know the truth."

"But how are we supposed to figure out what's going on?" Ava asked.

"By piecing the puzzle together," Sam answered. "The guy you dreamed about who was murdered in the parking lot, he was one of us."

"He was psychic too?" Ava cried.

"Yes, although we don't know what specific power he had yet," Fallon said.

"So how do we figure that out?" Ava asked.

"Fallon discovered this guy had been seeing a psychologist," Sam said. "We need to access the transcript or recorded tapes from his therapy sessions."

"How are we going to do that?" Ava asked.

"Oh, leave that to me," Fallon said. "I'll be back in thirty minutes."

Fallon teleported to Dr. Waxler's office. At this time of night, the entire building was deserted. She glanced around the room and thought about where the doctor most likely kept his patients' transcripts. She looked past the computer on his desk. She had no doubt he had the patients' basic information there and did his scheduling with the computer, but she doubted the transcriptions from his therapy sessions were stored on there. If the computer broke down, they would be lost. She was also sure the doctor kept nothing in his desk drawers. He would have too many patients to store the information there.

Her eyes eventually landed on a large metal cabinet. She popped open a drawer and saw a bunch of tapes stacked inside. Between the tapes were manila envelopes with the patients' names written on them. They were filed under alphabetical order. Fallon noticed the drawer she had open the names began with a H. She looked through a few more until she found the one she was looking for. She grabbed the package of tapes the doctor had recorded in therapy sessions for Scott Carey and teleported back to the motel room.

"Got them," she said dropping the tapes on the bed beside Sam.

"That wasn't even thirty minutes," Sam commented.

Fallon shrugged. "He didn't exactly have them on lock down," she replied.

"So, we're really going to listen to this guy's therapy sessions?" Ava said. "Isn't that a huge invasion of privacy?"

"The guy's already dead," Fallon commented as Sam stuffed the first tape into the cassette. "It's not like we can ask permission."

"Ready?" Sam asked. Reluctantly, Ava nodded.

 _"It started a little over a year ago,"_ Scott's voice rang from the cassette. " _Migraines, at first. Then I found I could do… stuff."_

 _"What do you mean, do stuff?"_ they heard the doctor ask.

 _I have this ability. When I touch something, I can electrocute it if I want."_

"Yikes!" Fallon muttered. "That doesn't sound like a very friendly power."

"I guess that depends on whether he was using it on people," Sam replied. They continued to listen to the tape. After a while they Scott finally mentioned the Yellow-eyed demon.

 _"What else does the yellow-eyed man say?"_ the doctor asked.

 _"He has plans for me. He says there's a war coming. That people like me, we're going to be the soldiers. Everything's about to change."_

The tape stopped after that. The three of them sat in stunned silence for a moment. It was Ava who broke it.

"He's not talking about us, right?"

"Yeah, I think he is," Sam replied.

"But how can we turn into that?" Ava questioned.

"I don't…" Suddenly, the motel window shattered.

"Get down!" Fallon screeched as she realized someone had just shot at them. Sam grabbed Ava and dragged her to the floor. Another bullet whizzed through the window. This one hit the mattress on the bed.

"What's happening?!" Ava cried.

"I don't know," Sam answered. "Fallon?"

"I don't know, but I'm not leaving you two here alone," she told him. "I can deflect the bullet if it goes your way. Let's see what happens." They stayed where they were for what seemed like hours, but could only have been a few minutes, before they relaxed when no more bullets were fired at them.

"Do you think it's that yellow-eyed man?" Ava asked climbing to her feet shakily.

"No, he wants you alive," Fallon replied. "It was probably just some random shooting."

"You think so?" Sam asked her.

"Well, I hope so," Fallon said.

"Where was the person shooting from?" Sam asked. "Could you tell?"

"Yeah," Fallon answered. "They were shooting from the roof of the building right across the road. Let's go check it out." The three of them headed for the building and climbed the fire escape to the roof. Whoever had been on the roof was gone now, but they were all on edge.

"Shouldn't we be talking to the cops?" Ava asked.

"Trust me, that wouldn't do us much good," Sam replied holding up a shell casing. "These are .223 caliber. Subsonic rounds. The guy must have put a suppressor on the rifle."

"Dude, who are you?" Ava asked.

"I learned to stop asking that a long time ago," Fallon said. "Just go along with it." Sam pulled out his phone and started punching in a number.

"Who are you calling?" Ava asked.

"My brother," Sam answered, and Fallon groaned. Sam gave her a look. "I think we definitely need help." Fallon paced along the rooftop while Sam talked to his brother. When he hung up the phone, she was about to make some snide remark when she saw the worried look on his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Dean's in trouble," Sam said.

"What?" Ava and Fallon asked.

"He gave me a codeword," Sam said. "Someone's got a gun on him."

"Codeword?" Ava questioned.

"Yeah, Funky town," Sam replied. "Well, he thought of it. It's kind of a … long story. I…"

"Save it for later," Fallon cut in. "We need to get moving." The three climbed back down the fire escape and led Ava back to her car.

"I don't think I should leave," Ava said.

"I want you out of harm's way, Ava," Sam said.

"What about you two?" Ava asked.

"Harm's way doesn't really bother me," Sam replied.

"I'm a ghost," Fallon said. "There's not a lot of ways to harm me."

"Oh, yeah, right," Ava replied before looking at Sam. "But you are walking right into my vision. I mean, this is how you die."

"Ava, did you see me in your vision?" Fallon asked.

Ava thought for a minute and then shook her head. "No," she answered. "You weren't in it."

"If you're visions are anything like Sam's than some details are missing," Fallon said. "Sam will be just fine. I won't let anything happen to him. You believe me, don't you."

"I believe you," Ava said after a moment. "Just, both of you promise me you'll call when you get your brother. Just to let me know that everything's alright."

"We'll call," Fallon assured her.

"I promise," Sam agreed.

When they arrived at the address Dean had given them Fallon used her powers to feel the layout of the building and see what was inside. "It's just Gordon and Dean," Fallon told Sam. "Dean's tied up. Ava was right. There are two trip wires."

"Can you get to Dean and get the drop on Gordan?" Sam asked.

"I can't pop into the room because he has a salt barrier all around it," Fallon replied. "Good news here though, is that it doesn't look like he knows I can break a salt circle. I'll be able to break it from the front room that's rigged." She went to get out of the car, but Sam stopped her.

"I don't think we go in on the offensive," Sam said.

"We have the advantage," Fallon pointed out.

"We do, but Gordan is no amateur," Sam said. "We may not have the advantage for long."

"So how do you think we should play it?" Fallon asked.

"Smartly," Sam replied. "I'm going to call the police before we go in. I'm going in first. I'll trip both wires. The blast will break the salt circle, so you can pop in and free Dean when he leaves him alone to make sure I'm dead. I'll take care of him while you free Dean. Then we just need to cut and run before the police show up."

"Alright," Fallon agreed. "You go do your part. I'll wait for Gordan to leave the room." She watched Sam head towards the house while pulling out his phone before turning her attention back to her task at hand. She listened as both explosions went off and when she felt Gordan leave the room she immediately teleported into it, right in front of Dean. He began to frantically try and communicate through the gag, but she held a finger to her lip as she used her power to loosen the rope around Dean and then pulled it off him. She quickly ripped the gag off.

She didn't wait for him to get up before she was heading for the front room. Sam and Gordan were fighting for control of the other. Fallon raised a hand and shoved it forward in front of her. Gordan went flying and hit the opposite wall, before crumbling to the ground unconscious. Dean finally came through the door behind her and immediately began to stalk towards Gordan's unconscious body.

"Dean, no…" Sam protested.

"I let him live once. I'm not making the same mistake twice," Dean growled.

"Trust me," Sam said barring Dean with his arm. "Gordon's taken care of. Come on." He grabbed Dean by the jacket and tugged him to the door. Fallon followed them both out. They had only gotten a few feet away from the cabin though when they heard the door burst open. They glanced back, and Gordon was coming after them with a gun in each hand.

"You call this taken care of?!" Dean snapped as they began to run for the woods near the cabin. The ground sloped into a ditch and they dived in. "What the hell are we doing?"

"Just trust me, alright," Sam whispered. Suddenly, the sound of cop cars wailed through the night. Fallon smirked as three cars pulled up in front of Gordon.

"Drop your weapons!" a cop shouted. "Down on your knees!"

"This is too satisfying," Fallon said as she watched Gordon get shoved into the backseat of a cop car.

"How…"

"Anonymous tip," Sam explained to his brother.

Dean smiled broadly. "You're a fine upstanding citizen, Sam," he said before turning to Fallon. "Or did you give him the idea?"

Fallon met his gaze and immediately felt her anger at him well up again in her chest. She ground her teeth and forced herself not to glare at him as she climbed out of the ditch. "I'll see you both later," she told them before walking back towards the street. She hadn't reached the sidewalk yet when she heard booted feet rushing towards her and then there was a hand on her shoulder holding her in place.

"Where are you going?"

She turned around to see it was Dean who had come after her. "I don't know," she shrugged. She backed up a few steps until she was on the sidewalk. "I'll check in with you guys in a few days. See if there's a case you need help with." She turned and began walking again. This time he grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"Fallon, don't go," he pleaded.

"Why not?" Fallon asked waspishly.

"Because Sam doesn't want you to," Dean replied. Fallon snorted and rolled her eyes before starting to walk off again. Dean called after her. "Because I don't want you to either!"

"Oh really?" Fallon retorted. "You want me around? So you can say I told you so when I go vengeful? Or point out how evil I am?"

"No!" Dean cried. "That's not…"

"Or maybe," Fallon continued, her voice growing louder, "I should stick around to put up with the abuse you throw my way whenever I get a new power, even though you know I can't control when that happens! You're right. I should totally stick around to hear you accuse me of spying on you when you sleep or shower. Or accuse me of messing with your mind because I'm an evil ghost who's out to get you! I should totally let you manipulate me with caring gestures and a charming smile into thinking you care about me and that you're sorry for being a dick, even though you're not sorry at all, **and think I'm just another monster you'll have to dispose of someday. You're right. I should totally stick around for that!"**

She felt her chest heaving as she stood there. She felt her anger dispense and be replaced by a completely different emotion. Suddenly, she was crying. Tears poured down her face as she continued to say everything that she'd been bottling up inside for a while now.

"I'm tired of you saying you're sorry without ever really apologizing," she choked out through her clogged throat. "And I'm tired of you joking about not really having to make up because we were never really friends in the first place, because that's not true! You may not really think of me as a friend, but you and Sam are the only two people I have. You may not like me, but I care about you and you're my friend. But you're right! I should totally stick around to be reminded that you don't think of me that…"

She was cut off as Dean crushed her to him. She sobbed into his chest and he held her tightly, his fingers stroking gently through her hair. He held her this way until finally her sobs turned into tired crying and then finally just a few leftover tears. He let her breathing even out before he pushed her gently away a few steps and then placed his hands on both sides of her face and used his thumbs to brush the tears from his face.

"I'm sorry," he said staring softly into her eyes. "And I'm not just saying it so you'll stick around and help us on hunts, or so that I can keep an eye on you and make sure you don't go vengeful. I want you around because I… because you are my friend. I care about you.

"And I know I push you away and say we're not really friends a lot, but I was raised to think all ghosts and monsters are evil. No exceptions. And that's no excuse. You've more than proven that's not the case all the time. It's just, that old belief is hard to shake. I'm going to work harder at it though. I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry." Dean pulled her back into his chest and kissed the top of her head. "Forgive me. I'll do better."

Fallon returned the hug a moment later. "Okay," she told him. "I forgive you." She glanced up at him and he smiled, looking relieved. She stepped out of the embrace and took a deep, steadying breath. "We better get back to Sam."

"Okay," Dean agreed. They walked back to the stolen car together, a peaceful silence settling over them.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked shooting them both concerned looks as the entered the car.

"Everything's fine," Fallon replied.

"Good," Sam said. "I would have missed having you around all the time."

Fallon smiled. "I would have missed you too, Sammy."

The three headed back to the motel and ditched the stolen car. Fallon was happy to see the Impala having gone the past few days without being a passenger in the old car. The three took their usual places. As Dean drove off Sam pulled out his cell phone.

"Calling again?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam answered distractedly. "Ava, it's Sam. Again. Um, call me when you get this, just want to make sure you got home okay. Alright. Bye."

"Everything alright?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I hope so," Sam said.

"Well, Gordon should be reaching for the soap for the next few years at least," Dean said trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, if they pin Scott Carey's murder on him," Sam replied. "And if he doesn't bust out."

"Dude, if you ever take off like that again…"

"What?" Sam questioned. "You'll kill me?"

"That is so not funny," Dean grumbled.

Sam laughed. "Alright, alright. So where to next, then?"

"One word: Amsterdam," Dean said.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed exasperated.

"Come on, I hear the coffeeshops don't even serve coffee," Dean insisted.

"I'm not just gonna ditch the job," Sam said.

"Screw the job!" Dean exclaimed. "Screw it. I'm sick of the job anyway. I mean, we don't get paid, we don't get thanked. The only thing we get's bad luck."

"Well, come on, dude, you're a hunter," Sam pointed out. "I mean it's what you were meant to do."

"That's debatable," Fallon muttered.

"She's right," Dean said. "I don't believe in that destiny crap."

"You mean you don't believe in my destiny," Sam said.

"Yeah, whatever," Dean grumbled.

"Look, Dean, I'm going to keep hunting. I mean, whatever is coming, I'm taking it head-on, so if you really want to watch my back, then I guess you're gonna have to stick around."

"Bitch," Dean said.

"Jerk," Sam retorted.

"It's so cute when you two do that," Fallon commented. Both boys shot her a smile. Silence settled over them for a minute before Sam picked up his phone again.

"You calling that Ava girl again?" Dean asked. "You sweet on her or something?"

"She's engaged, Dean," Sam said dryly.

"I'm getting worried," Fallon said. "She should have called back by now."

Sam nodded. "How far is it to Peoria?"

They changed their course and after a while they finally reached Ava's home. Fallon unlocked the front door to the house to let the boys in. They began to check out the place. The house was quiet, but something felt off.

"Hello?" Sam called out. "Is anybody home?" While Dean and Sam checked out the downstairs, Fallon wondered upstairs. She walked slowly towards one door that was slightly open. She pushed it open. And then she screamed. Immediately, Dean and Sam were right beside her.

"What happened?" Dean asked pulling her around to face him and running his gaze over her from head to toe like he was checking for injuries.

"Oh my god," Sam said horrified. Dean finally looked into the room and saw what had made her scream. A man, who must have been Ava's fiancé, laid murdered in the bed. Blood covered his body and was soaking into the white sheets. Fallon forced herself to look back at the body.

"What happened?" she asked.

Dean scoped out the room before stopping at the window and running a finger along the sill. "Sulfur," he stated. "Demon's been here."

Sam kneeled and picked something up off the ground. Fallon recognized it as Ava's engagement ring.

"Oh no," she whispered. Dean came over to her and placed an arm around her shoulder.

"It'll be okay," Dean told them both. But it felt like an empty promise.


	10. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** First, I would like to apologize for the long delay in posting this chapter. The holiday season kept me busy and I decided to wait until the season ended to get back to this chapter. Second, I would like to apologize for how awful this chapter is. Definitely not my best work. It suffered from the holiday frustration and a desire to just move on from it. I promise the next chapter will be better. Please stick with me after this. I hope you at least like some things about this chapter and thank you for reading.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Supernatural. The script and characters belong to the writer's and creators of the show. Only Fallon is mine.

* * *

Fallon teleported back to the motel they'd been staying at for a month and saw Dean stepping out of the Impala with two cups of coffee.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Hey," Dean said stopping as he waited for her to walk over to him. "Did you find her?"

"No," Fallon replied. "And that's the last time I go back to that place, Dean. It's disturbing."

"Demons are disturbing," Dean said. "And don't you think the fact that you always teleport to the same place when looking for Ava means something."

"I did until right around the tenth time I searched the place," Fallon said.

"And you're sure you're not missing something?" Dean questioned. "No hidden space? Even a clue to where she might actually be?"

"No!" Fallon cried. "It's just an empty ghost town. Dean, I've looked everywhere. She's not there. Please, Dean, please I don't want to go back there."

"Okay. Okay," Dean assured her. "You don't have to go back. I know if she was there you would have found her."

Fallon nodded. "You'll back me up when Sam tries to push the issue?"

"You bet I will," Dean said wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"Thank you," Fallon said following Dean to the room. She was still trying to shake the sense of foreboding off. Every time she'd been in that ghost town, she'd felt the same dread fill her, and it took a long time for the feeling to fade. Every time she was there, she got the feeling that something bad was going to happen. She just didn't know when.

She was also trying to push down a small feeling of guilt. She had told both boys a million times that she had looked all throughout the ghost town for Ava, but she honestly couldn't be sure she had. Every time she'd been there not long after she started her search, she'd get the feeling she was being watched. She spent the whole time looking over her shoulder. And she always saw this one child out of the corner of her eye. She never got a clear view of them. And every time she had tried to speak with them, they had ignored her.

Fallon would go back to searching the town each time, but after a while she'd here the child's voice tell her to look over here, and she ended up chasing it throughout the town. Still, after a month of searching the town, she was sure there couldn't have been any place left unchecked. Either way, she had no intention of ever going back there. As the motel room door opened, she braced herself for an argument with Sam. Sam was just hanging up his cell phone when they got there.

"What'd Ellen have to say?" Dean asked.

"Oh, she's got nothing," Sam replied. "Me, I've been checking every database I can think of, federal, state, and local. No one's heard anything about Ava. She just… into thin air, you know? Fallon, any luck."

"No," Fallon answered. "It's just an empty town. And I'm not going back there."

Sam opened his mouth to argue, but Dean jumped in. "She's searched the place every day for a month, Sam. She knows what she's doing. She doesn't need to go back."

"Yeah, you're right," Sam conceded. "You find anything?"

"No, sorry," Dean replied.

"Ellen did have one thing," Sam said after a minute.

"What's that?" Fallon asked.

"A hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut," Sam said. "Two freak accidents in the past three weeks."

"Yeah?" Dean said. "What's that have to do with Ava?"

"It's a job," Sam said. "I mean, a lady drowned in the bathtub, then a few days ago a guy falls down the stairs, head turns a complete one-eighty."

"Ugh!" Fallon groaned wincing.

"Agreed," Sam said. "And not exactly normal. Look, I don't know, it might be nothing, but I told Ellen we'd think about checking it out."

"You did?" Dean and Fallon asked.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Why do you both sound so surprised?"

"Well, it's just, you know, not the patented Sam Winchester way, is it?" Dean replied.

"What way is that?" Sam huffed.

"I just figured after Ava there'd be more angst and droopy music and staring out the rainy windows, and…" He paused at the looks Sam and Fallon shot him. "I'll shut up now."

"I think that would be wise," Fallon said.

"Look," Sam sighed, "I'm the one who told her to go back home. Now her fiancé's dead and some demon has taken her off to God knows where. But we've been looking for a month now, and we've got nothing. So, I'm not giving up on her, but I'm not going to let other people die either. We've got to save as many people as we can."

"Wow," Dean commented. "That attitude is just way too healthy for me, and I'm officially uncomfortable now. Thank you."

"Hilarious," Fallon said dryly as Sam laughed.

"You know I am," Dean teased shoving her shoulder slightly, before turning back to Sam. "Call Ellen. Tell her we'll take the case.

Fallon raised her eyebrows as she stepped out of the Impala and stared up at the huge inn. It was gorgeous. She had always dreamed of living in a place like this. But even from here she could feel the bad energy radiating from the building. She had a feeling this was going to be a difficult case.

"This is sweet," Dean commented as he got out of the car. "I never get to work jobs like this."

"Like what?" Sam asked.

"Old school haunted houses, you know?" Dean replied. "Fog, and secret passageways… sissy British accents. Might even run into Fred and Daphne while we're inside. Mmm. Daphne. Love her."

"You know she's not real, right?" Fallon asked giving him a look.

"She is in my fantasies," Dean replied.

"Ugh, I did not need to know that," Fallon cried while Dean laughed.

"I agree with Fallon on that," Sam said looking just as disgusted as Fallon. They stepped up onto the porch and were about to enter the motel when Sam stopped them. Fallon turned and saw him inspecting an urn on the porch.

"Sam?" she questioned.

"I'm not so sure haunted's the problem," he said.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"You see this pattern here?" Sam said holding the urn out to Dean and Fallon. A symbol was carved into it with five points. "That's a quincunx, a five-spot."

"Care to explain?" Fallon questioned.

"It's used for hoodoo spell work, right?" Dean said.

"Right," Sam said. "You fill this thing with blood weed and you've got a powerful charm to ward off enemies."

"Nothing's warding me off," Fallon commented.

"There's no blood weed in the urn," Dean told her. "And I don't think there's any hoodoo going on here. Don't you think this place is a little too, uh, white meat for hoodoo?"

"Maybe," Sam replied shrugging.

"Well, we'll figure it out soon enough," Fallon said. "Let's get a room." They entered the inn and shortly after were greeted by a harried looking woman.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"Hi, yeah, I'd like a room for a couple of nights," Dean said.

"Well, um, congratulations, you could be some of our final guests," the woman said awkwardly.

"Sounds vaguely ominous," Dean commented lightly.

"No, I'm sorry, I mean we're closing at the end of the month," she rushed out before glancing both boys over. "Well, let me guess. You guys are here antiquing?" Fallon made a face as she raised her eyebrows, but Dean seemed okay to play along with her.

"How'd you know?" he asked.

"Oh, you just look the type," the woman commented.

"Antiquers have a look?" Fallon questioned. Sam subtly shrugged his shoulders. Dean was starting to look uncomfortable, but the woman who ran the place didn't know it.

"So, uh, king-sized bed?" she asked. Fallon's jaw dropped as she realized what the woman meant and started laughing.

"What?" Sam said dismayed. "No, uh, no we're…we're … two singles. We're just brothers."

"Oh!" the woman cried blushing. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

"What'd you mean that we look the type?" Dean asked disgruntled. The woman started to say something, but Sam cut her off.

"You know, speaking of antiques, you have a really, really interesting urn on the front porch," he told her. "Where did you get that?"

"Oh, I have no idea," the woman said relieved to be let off the hook. "It's been there forever." She handed Dean the room key. "You'll be staying in room 237." She glanced over their shoulders and made a beckoning motion with her hand. "Sherwin, could you show these gentlemen to their room?"

An old man stepped forward and grabbed their luggage. "Let me guess," he said. "Antiquers?" Sam and Dean both made faces and Fallon started laughing again. As they started climbing the stairs Sherwin began to drag the duffel bag.

"I could give you a hand with that bag," Dean said.

"I got it," Sherwin brushed him off.

"Okay," Dean said.

"So, the hotel's closing up, huh?" Sam commented.

"Yep," Sherwin said. "Miss. Susan tried to make a go of it, but the guests just don't come like they used to. Still, it's a damn shame."

"Oh yeah?" Sam questioned.

"It may not look it anymore, but this place was a palace," Sherwin stated. "Two different vice-presidents have laid their heads on our pillows. My parents worked here, I practically grew up here. Gonna miss it." He came to a stop and turned to face them. "Here's your room." He slipped the lock into the door and opened it for them. Sam and Fallon slipped by him into the room. They began to settle into the room.

"What the…" Dean commented staring at a decayed wedding dress tacked up on the wall.

"What?" Sam asked as he began to shift through papers.

"That's normal," Dean stated sarcastically, motioning towards the dress. "Why the hell would anyone stay here? I'm amazed they kept in business this long."

"It is a little creepy," Fallon agreed.

"Alright, victim number one, Joan Edison, forty-three years old, a realtor handling the sale of the hotel," Sam said all business. "And victim number two was Larry Williams, moving some stuff out to Goodwill."

"Well, there's a connection," Dean said.

"Yeah, both we're involved in shutting this place down," Fallon said.

"Maybe someone here doesn't want to leave, and they're using hoodoo to fight back," Sam suggested.

"I'm still leaning towards a haunting," Fallon said. "There's another spirit besides me here."

"That's not uncommon for this type of place," Sam said. "I think the culprit this time has to be human though."

"So who do you think the witch doctor is, then?" Dean asked. "That Susan lady?"

"No, doesn't seem likely," Sam replied. "I mean, she's the one selling."

"The creepy old guy?" Fallon suggested referring to the bell-man.

"I don't know," Sam said. "Maybe."

"Of course, the most troubling question is why do these people assume we're gay?" Dean questioned.

"Well, you are kinda butch," Sam commented. "Probably think you're overcompensating."

"Right," Dean huffed.

"Dean, why does it matter what they think?" Fallon asked. "You know which sex you prefer."

"Guess you're right," he said. "Alright, what's first course of action?"

"Let's do a quick scout of the building and see if we find any clues," Sam said. The three of them began to wander the halls. After a few minutes they came across another urn. Sam picked it up and inspected it. He then held it out for Fallon and Dean to see. "More hoodoo."

"What do you think is in that room?" Dean asked nodding towards a door with a sign on it that said "Private."

"Dunno," Sam replied.

"One way to find out," Dean said raising a fist to knock on the door.

"Put your hand down," Fallon ordered placing a hand on his wrist. "I'll check out the room, you two continue looking out here for something that'll give us a lead."

"Okay," Dean agreed. "Meet you back at the room."

Sam and Dean began to continue down the hall. Fallon turned and phased through the door. Immediately, she felt a sense of dismay fill her. She stared in horror at the sight in front of her eyes. Row upon row of old dolls covered one wall of the room. This scene had shown up in one of her nightmares once. She shuddered and moved forward into the room. A quick scan of the room revealed nothing, but then a doll house caught her attention. The doll house was a replica of the hotel. She moved closer and kneeled, so she could see the inside of it.

Her eyebrows rose at the scene playing out inside. At the bottom of the doll house staircase lay a male doll with its head twisted around.

"Okay," she said to herself. "Maybe it is hoodoo." Suddenly, she heard footsteps from behind her and saw Susan and a little girl come out of the open doorway she'd been about to check out. Susan saw the doll in the staircase.

"Tyler, why did you break the doll?" Susan asked.

"I didn't break it," Tyler replied. "I found it like that."

"So, Maggie did it?" the mother asked sounding annoyed.

"No, neither of us did it," Tyler said. "Grandma would get mad if we broke 'em." Fallon teleported back to room 237 to wait for the boys. After an hour they finally did.

"Hey, did you find anything?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Fallon replied. "So that private room lead to the family's living quarters. They have a dollhouse that is the exact replica of this inn, and inside the dollhouse lying at the bottom of the stairs is a doll with its head twisted around."

"Like our second victim," Sam said.

"Exactly," Fallon replied. "While I was there Susan and her daughter came into the room. She mentioned a grandmother, although I don't know if she's still alive."

"She is," Dean said. "An employee we spoke with mentioned her. She said the grandmother isn't doing well."

"That's a shame," Fallon said.

"Sure, if she's not the one using hoodoo," Dean replied.

"You think she's the culprit?" Fallon asked surprised.

"Well, dolls are used in all kinds of voodoo and hoodoo," Sam said.

"There were an awful lot of dolls in that room," Fallon admitted.

"Maybe we found our witch doctor," Dean said. "Alright, I'll see what I can go dig up on boomin' Granny. You go get online, check old obits, freak accidents, that sort of thing. See if she's whacked anybody before."

"Right," Sam agreed.

"Don't go surfing porn," Dean said. "That's not the kind of whacking I mean."

"You're disgusting," Fallon said following him out of the room.

"You're coming with me?" Dean asked.

"Why not?" Fallon said. "There's only one laptop to use for research. Might as well just tag you."

"Lucky me," Dean said placing an arm around her waist as they walked down the stairs.

"Well, that was a bust," Fallon sighed as the inn came back into view.

"No kidding," Dean said. "This family certainly managed to keep all their skeletons in the closet."

"All those hours researching and the most scandalous thing we could find was a divorce," Fallon said. "They must literally be the world's most perfect family."

"You don't consider your own perfect?" Dean asked amused.

"You've heard me tell stories about my family, right?" Fallon replied. "If people looked into our family history they'd probably come after us with pitchforks and torches."

Dean laughed. "You do seem to have some crazy relatives."

"Crazy's putting it lightly," Fallon commented. "I haven't even told you half…" She paused as they came onto the property and she saw an ambulance parked out front. Two paramedics came out of the house carrying someone in a body bag. She glanced at Dean and the two quickly rushed inside. Susan was standing in the entry way, looking lost.

"What happened?" Dean asked.

"Oh, the maid went to turn down the sheets and he was just… hanging there," she answered.

"That's awful," Dean said. "He was a guest?"

"He worked for the company that bought the place," Susan said absentmindedly.

"Hmm," Dean hummed sharing a meaningful look with Fallon.

"I don't understand," Susan sighed, her shoulders slumped. She looked as if she were caving in on herself.

"What?" Dean asked concerned.

"Had a lot of bad luck around here," Susan said. "Look, if you'd like to check out, I'll give you a full refund."

"No thanks. I don't scare that easy," Dean assured her. He and Fallon started to head back for the room. Fallon waited until they were a landing up before speaking.

"Do you think Sam may know more?"

"Guess we'll find out," Dean said and the two picked up their pace. They both burst through the room door before quickly closing it behind them. "There's been another one. Some guy just hung himself in his room."

"Yeah," Sam answered darkly. "I saw."

"We've got to figure this out, and fast," Dean continued. "What'd you find out about Granny?"

"You're bossy," Sam said randomly. Fallon and Dean shot each other confused looks.

"What?" Dean exclaimed surprised.

"You're bossy," Sam repeated amused. "And short."

"Uh, Dean," Fallon said pointing at several empty bottles of liquor.

"Are you drunk?!" Dean cried.

"Yeah," Sam laughed. "So? Stupid."

"Dude, what are you thinking? We're working a case," Dean scolded.

Suddenly, Sam became tearful. "That guy who hung himself. I couldn't save him."

"What are you talking about?" Dean said. "You didn't know. You couldn't have done anything."

"That's an excuse, Dean," Sam cried. "I should have found a way to save him. I should have saved Ava, too."

"Sam, what happened to Ava and this man was not your fault," Fallon said reassuringly.

"She's right," Dean said. "You can't save everyone. Even you said that."

"No, Dean, you don't understand, alright?" Sam cried pounding the table beside him. "The more people I save, the more I can change!"

"Change what?" Dean asked shooting a hopeful glance at Fallon, hoping she had the answer. Fallon shrugged and shook her head. She had no idea what had Sam so worked up.

"My destiny, Dean!" Sam cried.

"Oh boy," Fallon muttered before turning away and started pick up the empty liquor bottles. She would let Dean handle this one. As she cleaned up, Dean struggled to get Sam into bed. Sam didn't seem to want to calm down. Fallon tried to ignore the drunk conversation until she heard Sam ask Dean to promise to kill him if he ever went dark side. She whipped around at that.

"Sam," Dean replied dismissively as he got Sam into bed.

"Dean!" Sam cried. "Dad told you to do it, you have to."

"Yeah, well Dad's an ass!" Dean shouted unexpectedly. "He never should have said anything. I mean, you don't do that, you don't, you don't lay that kind of crap on your kids."

"No, he was right to say it!" Sam exclaimed. "Who knows what I might become? Even now, everyone around me dies!"

"Pretty sure that has more to do with your employment, Sammy. Not you," Fallon said.

Sam shook his head, ignoring her. "Dean, you're the only one who can do it," he pleaded. "Promise."

"Don't ask that of me," Dean begged as Fallon shook her head at him.\

"Dean, please," Sam said. "You have to promise me." Fallon shook her head again, but Dean caved.

"I promise," he said. Fallon slammed her hand against the wall, causing Dean to flinch. After another moment Sam fell asleep and she advanced on Dean.

"How could you promise him that, you moron?!" she cried shoving him back a step.

"Fallon…"

"Don't Fallon me!" she cried. "How could you promise him that?"

"Fallon, he's drunk," Dean said. "He won't even remember."

"You don't know that for sure!" Fallon cried.

"You saw all the liquor bottles," Dean said. "I think there's a pretty good chance he won't remember."

"Dean…"

"What did you want me to do!" Dean cried. "I had to promise him to get him to calm down."

"Not that," Fallon replied. "And we both know it's not a promise you can keep."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked slumping in the chair Sam had just been sitting in.

"It means you can't kill him," Fallon said. "Even if he ever does go dark side you would never be able to bring yourself to kill him."

"I need a freaking drink," Dean sighed standing up.

"Where are you going?" Fallon asked.

"To the bar," Dean replied and then turned to face her. "You wanna come?"

Fallon shook her head. "I'm going to stay here with him and make sure he doesn't choke on his own vomit."

"Probably a good idea," Dean said before leaving. Fallon sighed and glanced over at Sam. She really hoped he wouldn't remember that promise in the morning.

Fallon had picked up the new book Sam had bought for her and was well on her way through it by late in the morning when Sam woke up groaning. She laughed and glanced over to see Sam struggling to sit up.

"How do you feel there, Sammy?" she teased. "Regretting your trip to boozeville?" Her teasing smile turned into a look of concern when Sam turned from pale to translucent. "Sam?" He dodged past her and into the bathroom falling hard on his knees in front of the toilet. Fallon cringed when she heard his vomit hit the water and splat against the inside walls of the toilet bowl. She put the book down and walked up behind him, rubbing a hand soothingly over his back as he continued to vomit. After a moment the vomiting came to an end.

"You okay?" she asked.

"No," Sam groaned.

Fallon forced down a smile. "Anything I can do for you?"

"Yeah," Sam huffed. "Not to sound like a dick because I appreciate you trying to comfort me, but could you stop with the back rubbing and back up a bit?"

Fallon teleported back to the chair she'd been sitting in. "This far enough away?"

"Perfect," Sam moaned and then started vomiting. Fallon tried to go back to reading, but it was surprisingly difficult to concentrate with Sam vomiting a few feet away from her. She gave up when the hotel room door open and Dean walked in. He immediately grinned when her heard Sam being sick.

"How you feeling, Sammy?" he asked obnoxiously. Sam groaned. "I guess mixing whiskey and Jager wasn't such a gangbuster idea, was it?" Dean said shooting Fallon a smile. "I'll bet you don't remember a thing from last night, do you?"

"Ohh, I can still taste the tequila," Sam moaned.

"Gross," Fallon muttered.

"You know there's a really good hangover remedy," Dean commented. "It's a greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ash tray."

"Oh, I hate you," Sam choked out as he began dry heaving.

"I know you do," Dean laughed.

"Did you learn anything new about the case?" Fallon asked.

"Yeah," Dean said. "Turns out when Grandma Rose was a tyke, she had a Creole nanny who wore a hoodoo necklace. Whoo!" Dean waved a hand in front of his face as he came to stand in front of the bathroom. Fallon decided to stay where she was on the other side of the room.

"So, you think she taught Rose hoodoo?" Sam said.

"Yes, I do," Dean replied.

"Alright," Sam moaned as he forced himself to his feet. "I think it's time we talk to Rose, then."

Dean grimaced. "Oh, you can brush your teeth first," he said. "Fallon and I will wait in the hall for you."

Fallon opened the door to let Dean and Sam into the owner's private living space. "This always so wrong," she commented.

"Necessary evil," Dean said. "And a means to stopping the evil that's actually going on."

"Yeah, yeah," Fallon grumbled as they walked through another door and found themselves presented with a dimly lit staircase. "This place is creepy."

"You can say that again," Dean agreed. They climbed the staircase which led up to a small hallway. The door to a room at the end was open and the three of them walked towards that room and saw an old woman sitting in a wheelchair facing a window.

"Mrs. Thompson?" Sam asked as they stepped into the room. "Mrs. Thompson, we're not here to hurt you, it's okay…"

"Sam," Fallon said cutting him off. Both boys looked towards her. "She's not trembling because she's afraid. She had a stroke."

"But hoodoo's hands on," Dean said. "I mean, you've got to mix herbs, and chant, and build an altar."

"So, it can't be Rose," Sam said. "Maybe it's not even hoodoo."

"Well, as I stated from the beginning there's a ghost here," Fallon said.

"Or she could be faking," Dean suggested.

"Yeah? What are you going to do? Poke her with a stick?" Sam replied dryly. Dean paused for a moment before nodding.

Fallon slapped him on the back of the head. "You're not gonna poke her with a stick!" she hissed.

"What the hell?!" They turned and saw Susan standing in the doorway. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, we just wanted to talk to Rose…"

"Well, the door was open…"

"Next time only one of you open your mouths," Fallon said.

"Look at her, she is scared out of her wits," Susan cried. "I want you out of my hotel in two minutes or I'm calling the cops." The three of them immediately fled the room.

"So, what now?" Fallon asked as they left the hotel.

"We're not going far," Sam said. "Things are going to start escalating soon."

"They weren't escalated already?" Fallon commented.

"Yeah, but with everyone else as part of the moving deal is gone this ghost is going to go after its main target," Dean said. "Susan."

"Oh, so you finally believe me about the ghost being the culprit now," Fallon said sardonically.

"Shut up," Dean groaned.

"Only when you admit I was right," Fallon replied.

"That's never…"

"Guys, can we get a plan together here?" Sam asked intervening.

"Well, since we got kicked out, I guess we just need to keep an eye on the place," Fallon said.

"Dean and I got kicked out," Sam pointed out. "She doesn't know about you."

"You want to keep an eye on Susan?" Fallon said.

"Yes…"

"No!"

"Well, yes or no," Fallon said looking back and forth between both boys. "Which is it?"

"You're not staying in that inn without backup," Dean said.

"Dean, she doesn't need backup," Sam said. "Fallon can take care of herself. We've seen her take on spirits much stronger than this."

"With our help," Dean countered.

"Never with your help," Fallon re-countered and then sighed. "Let's just stake out the inn. If something happens inside, I'll be able to tell as long as we're close."

"Fine," Sam agreed. The three got in the Impala and drove down the road. They then got out and walked back up to the inn. They used a thick bunch of bushes to stay out of view from Susan who had come out into the yard. As they watched they saw the swing set start moving.

"Think it's windy enough for that to swing set to move on its own?" Dean said.

"No," Fallon and Sam answered keeping their eyes glued on Susan who was laying a hand on the teeter-totter, trying to stop it. Suddenly, the activity picked up and Susan's car started with a roar.

"Shit!" Fallon exclaimed, and Sam broke out in a run towards Susan as the car pelted towards her. He saved her just in time. Dean and Fallon ran over to join them.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked helping Susan to her feet.

"I think so," Susan replied shakily.

"Come on, come on," Dean urged. "Let's get inside." The group made their way to the bar in the inn.

"Whiskey," Susan ordered weakly and Dean grabbed a shot glass. "What the hell happened out there?"

"You want the truth?" Dean asked handing her the shot glass full of whiskey.

"Of course," Susan said.

"Well, at first we thought it was some sort of hoodoo curse," Dean began, but Fallon cut him off.

"No, you thought it was hoodoo," she corrected. "I knew it was a ghost the entire time."

"But that out there," Dean continued as if she hadn't spoken, which was fine since Susan didn't see or hear her anyhow, "that was definitely a spirit."

"You're insane," Susan said.

"It's been said," Dean replied unconcerned.

"Look, I'm really sorry, Susan," Sam cut in. "We don't exactly have time to ease you into this, but we need to know when your mother had the stroke."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just answer the question," Sam said patiently.

"About a month ago," Susan told them.

"Right before the killings began," Sam commented looking at Dean and Fallon. "See? What if Rose was working hoodoo, but not to hurt anyone. To protect them."

"She was using the five spot urns to ward off the spirit," Dean said.

"Right, until she had a stroke and couldn't anymore," Fallon added.

"I don't believe this," Susan moaned.

"Look, believe what you want," Sam said, "but the fact is you and your family are in danger, alright? So, you need to clear everybody out of here; your employees, your mother, your daughters, everyone."

"I only have on daughter," Susan said.

"One?" Sam asked.

"I thought Tyler had a sister named Maggie," Dean said.

"Maggie's imaginary," Susan said.

"It's always the imaginary friend," Fallon sighed. "My cousin Julien had one. His mother was so freaked out by some of the things he told her about his friend that she had a priest come and bless the house. The imaginary friend disappeared after that." She frowned. "Huh. Who knew?" Dean shot her an amused look, but Sam kept his attention on Susan.

"Where's Tyler?" Sam asked.

"She's in the playroom," Susan said as they began to hurry there. When they flung open the door Tyler was nowhere to be seen and broken dolls lay scattered around the floor. "Tyler!"

"Susan, tell us what you know about Maggie," Sam ordered when it became apparent the little girl was not here.

"Not much," Susan said. "Tyler's been talking about her since Mom got sick."

"Did you ever know anyone by that name?" Sam asked.

"No," Susan replied.

"Think," Dean urged. "I mean somebody that could have lived here. Might have passed away?"

"Oh my god," Susan sighed. "My mom had a sister named Margaret. She barely spoke about her."

"Did Margaret happen to die here when she was a kid?" Sam asked.

"She drowned in the pool," Susan said.

"Oh my god!" Fallon exclaimed immediately teleporting to the room with the indoor pool…except she was blocked. She popped outside the room. She rattled the door but couldn't make it budge. Sam joined her and the two worked together to bring down the door. Fallon glanced at the glass window on the door. She thought Sam could probably wriggle through if she broke the glass.

"Sam, stand back," Fallon said after a few more tries of budging the door. Sam did as he was told. Fallon took a deep breath and held her hands palm up at her chest. Using all her strength she shoved her hands forward, letting out a scream of determination. The class cracked throughout the window. Sam rushed back towards her and punched the glass out of the window before hurrying through. Fallon watched through the space and saw Sam jump into the pool after the kid. After a moment he surfaced and had the kid breathing again. She sighed in relief and headed back to the Impala to wait for the boys.

It was awhile before the boys joined her. It became clear when the paramedics showed up that Rose had passed away. The boys must have stayed to comfort Susan and make sure Maggie wouldn't be a problem anymore.

"So, that was an interesting case after taking a month off," Fallon commented as they drove away.

"Feels good getting back into the saddle, doesn't it?" Dean said.

"Yeah, it does," Sam answered. "But it doesn't change what we talked about last night, Dean." Fallon tensed and caught Dean's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"We talked about a lot of things last night," he said guardedly.

"You know what I mean," Sam said.

"You were wasted," Dean dismissed.

"But you weren't," Sam said. "And you promised." Fallon shared another glance with Dean as Sam started to brood. The anxiety in his eyes kept her from remarking that she'd warned him about making that promise. She settled in for an uncomfortable car ride.


	11. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** I should probably warn you not to expect updates this quickly. My plan is to update this fic every Sunday and finish by the end of February. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Thanks for reading and if you have time after please leave a review. They help motivate me.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Supernatural. All rights belong to the creators and writers of the show. I have also borrowed a line from the Santa Clause movie. I didn't come up with that line either.

* * *

Fallon was leaning against the wall outside their motel room when she heard someone call her name. She looked up in surprise and then smiled when she saw Sam walking towards her.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Why are you standing outside?" Sam asked.

"I left the room for a change of scenery, but when I got back, I remembered how much Dean is enjoying the vibrating, massaging bed and I was kind of afraid he might have taken advantage of both of our absence to, well, you know," Fallon explained. "I didn't want to walk in on that."

Sam laughed. "I'll check and make sure the coast is clear then." He opened the door and when she didn't hear any sounds of discomforted surprise she followed in after him.

"You gotta try this," Dean was telling Sam, referencing the vibrating bed. "I mean there really is magic in the Magic Fingers."

"Dean, you're enjoying that way too much," Sam said. "It's kind of making me uncomfortable, and Fallon's afraid to be in the same room as you."

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Dean complained. "I mean, you two have got me on lockdown here. I'm bored out of my skull."

"Well, Dean, when you get your face shown on national T.V. being the suspect of a bank robbery it's best to stay on the down low for a while," Fallon said plopping down on the bed across from him. "And it's pretty rude to say you're bored when I've been staying behind when I can to keep you company."

"I'm not bored by your company," Dean said. "I just don't do well holed up."

"Well, we can't risk you just walking into a government facility when you're a suspect for robbery, Dean," Sam sighed. Dean just grumbled a response and Sam walked past him to the bathroom. Dean's bed finally stopped vibrating.

"Aw dammit!" Dean muttered. "That was my last quarter. Hey, you got any quarters?"

"No!" Sam cried. "And don't even ask Fallon to go find you one." Dean's shoulders slumped mid-turn as that was exactly what he'd been planning to do.

Fallon rolled her eyes and stood up and walked over to the bathroom door. "Were you able to speak with that crazy girl?"

"Yeah. Gloria Sitnick," Sam said. "And I'm not so sure she's crazy?"

"But she seriously believes that she was touched by an angel?" Dean asked joining the conversation.

"Yeah," Sam answered. "Blinding light, feelings of spiritual ecstasy, the works. I mean, she's living in a locked ward and she's totally at peace."

"Oh, yeah, you're right," Dean remarked sarcastically. "Sounds completely sane. What about the dude she stabbed?"

"Uh, Carl Gully, she said she killed him because he was evil," Sam said.

"Was he?" Fallon questioned. "I mean, evil is pretty relative."

"I don't know," Sam said. "I mean, I couldn't find any dirt on him. He didn't have a criminal record, he worked at the campus library, had lots of friends. He was a churchgoer."

"Doesn't sound evil," Fallon commented.

"Yeah. So, Gloria's just your standard issue wacko," Dean said. "I mean, she wouldn't be the first nutjob in history to kill in the name of religion."

"True that," Fallon agreed. "There's a whole ugly history of people killing each other for that reason."

"Good point," Sam said, "but she's the second in town to murder because an angel told them to. Little bit odd, don't you think?"

"Well, a little odd, yes. Supernatural? Maybe. But angels?" Dean said. "I don't think so."

"Why not?" Sam asked.

"Cause there's no such thing, Sam," Dean replied.

"Dean, there's ten times as much lore about angels as there is about anything else we've ever hunted," Sam said.

"Yeah, you know what?" Dean replied. "There's a ton of lore on unicorns too. In fact, I hear that they, they ride on silver moonbeams, and they shoot rainbows out of their ass."

Sam sat down next to Fallon on the bed. "Wait, there's no such thing as unicorns?"

"That's cute," Dean replied. "I'm just saying, there's just some legends that you just file under bull crap."

"And you've got angels on the bull crap list?" Sam said disbelievingly.

"Yep," Dean answered.

"Why?" Sam asked.

"Because I've never seen one," Dean answered.

"So what?" Sam replied.

"So, I believe in what I can see," Dean said.

"Seeing isn't believing," Fallon said. "Believing is seeing."

"You're really going to quote the Santa Clause movie right now?" Dean asked.

"Seemed fitting," Fallon replied. Dean smiled.

"So, what do you think's happening then?" Sam pushed. "If you don't think it could be an angel."

"This is a demon or a spirit," Dean said. "You know, they find people a few fries short of a happy mean, and they trick them into killing these random people."

"Maybe," Sam said.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Can we just…I'm going stir-crazy. Hey, let's go by Gloria's apartment, huh?"

"I was just there," Sam said. "No sulfur, no EMF…"

"You didn't see any fluffy white wing feathers?" Dean teased.

Sam sighed. "But Gloria did say the angel gave her a sign, right beside Carl Gully's doorway."

"Could be something at his house," Dean said brightly. "It's worth checking out."

When they arrived at Carl Gully's house Dean gestured to an angel figurine on the porch. "It's a sign from up above," he joked. "I think I learned a valuable lesson. Always take down your Christmas decorations after New Year's, or you might get filleted by a hooker from God. Ha."

"My mom might agree with you," Fallon said. "She always said that anyone who still had their decorations up in February should be fined."

"I'm laughing on the inside," Sam commented as he headed around the side of the house. Fallon and Dean followed him. They stopped when they came to a wooden storm cellar. "You know, Gloria said the guy was guilty to his deepest foundation."

"You think she literally meant the foundation?" Dean questioned.

"Well, there's one way to find out," Fallon said using her power to open the cellar doors. The three of them headed into the basement.

"Hey," Sam called after a moment.

"You got something?" Dean asked.

Sam pulled at something on the wall until it came loose. He grimaced. "It's a fingernail."

"Oh, I don't like where this is going," Fallon groaned.

"We need to get the shovels," Dean said.

"No, you don't," Fallon sighed. She raised her hands up, palms facing the wall, and curled her fingers into claws. As she pulled her hands into her shoulder the wall crumbled away, revealing a pile of skeletons.

"So much for the innocent, churchgoing librarian," Sam said dully.

"Yeah, well, whatever spoke to Gloria about this knew what it was talking about, I'll give you that," Dean agreed.

"They're all females," Fallon said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"The skeletons," Fallon said. "They're all those of females. We learned how to differentiate between male and female skeletons in AP Biology."

"Fallon?" Sam questioned.

"We need to see how many girls have gone missing around here," Fallon stated. "Let's drop Dean back at the motel and then go to the library."

"Oh, c'mon!" Dean whined. "You're really going to lock me back up in the motel room?!"

Fallon felt equally both anger and grief as she looked over the dead girls' Facebook pages. She glanced through their pictures. All three of them had been beautiful girls who had clearly enjoyed life. They clearly had had a lot of friends and had been close to their families.

"Hey, did you find anything?" Sam asked coming up behind her.

"Look at these girls, Sam," she sighed. "They didn't deserve what happened to them."

"No. They didn't," Sam agreed quietly.

"Did you call the police?" Fallon asked shutting down the computer she'd been using.

"You know we can't do that Fallon," Sam said. "We may need to go back to Gully's house. We won't be able to do that if there's a police investigation."

Fallon felt her temper flare. "So, he just gets away with it!" she cried hotly. "He got away with it in his life and now he gets to get away with it after his death too?! These girls deserve justice. They deserve justice for the brutal abuse this man imposed on them!"

"Fallon, we don't know if this man… we don't know if that happened," Sam said trying to calm her down.

"We know what he did, Sam," Fallon said. "That's what men like Gully do. Who knows how long these girls had to suffer in that basement before he killed them."

"Fallon, only a forensic analysis could prove these girls were raped," Sam said. "Gully might have buried them in the basement for convenience sake only."

"You don't really believe that," Fallon replied. "And there won't be a forensic analysis because you won't notify the police. Carl Gully gets to get away with murder."

"Fallon…"

"Don't try to pacify me, Sam," Fallon snapped and teleported into the motel room.

Dean glanced up at her in surprise. "What did you find out?" She ignored him and stomped past him into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. The mirror frosted over with the strength of her anger. She ignored Dean's knocking on the door as she tried to calm herself down. Eventually she heard Dean back away from the door. Not long after Sam arrived back at the motel.

"What's wrong with Fallon?" she heard Dean ask.

"She's mad that I won't call the police to notify them of Gully's murder of those three women," Sam said.

"Well, considering what that monster most likely did to those girls that's unsurprising," Dean replied.

"I know," Sam said. "But we can't have the police beginning an investigation when we may still need access to Gully's house."

"I hope you didn't try that reasoning with her," Dean said. Sam didn't reply. "Dude!"

"I know," Sam sighed. "I don't think anything I could have said would make her feel better. How long has she been in the bathroom?"

"Since she got back," Dean said.

"Maybe I should try…"

"You don't have to try anything," Fallon said coming out of the bathroom. She'd cooled down enough to face them. "You're right. A police investigation could mess this case up for us. And it wouldn't bring those girls back, so I guess it doesn't matter whether we out Gully or not."

"I'm sorry, Fallon," Sam said sincerely.

Fallon shrugged. "Sometimes this job sucks."

"You can say that again," Dean agreed wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she sat down on the bed. "I have news, though. Whatever's behind this struck again."

"What?" Sam asked.

"I was listening to the police radio before you both got here," Dean told them. "There was this guy, Zach Smith, some local drunk. He went up to a stranger's front door last night. Stabbed him in the heart."

"And then went straight to the police and confessed?" Fallon questioned.

"Yep," Dean replied. "Roma Downey made him do it." He got up and peeled a post-it note from the mirror. "I've got the victim's address."

When they arrived at the victim's house Dean and Fallon took the upstairs while Sam stayed on the first floor. When Fallon and Dean didn't find anything, they went back downstairs and found Sam on the victim's computer.

"Find anything?" Sam asked.

"Well, Frank liked his catalog shopping, but that's about all we got," Dean replied.

"Not much here, except he's got this one locked file on his computer that I can't access," Sam said.

"I can take care of that," Fallon said. She reached out a hand and touched the screen. What happened next, she could only describe as an out of body experience. She found herself standing inside the computer on its desktop. She could see herself standing in-between Sam and Dean with her hand touching the screen. She could also see every file on the desktop. She walked over to the locked file and clicked on it. The file immediately opened and filled the screen. She saw herself step back from the computer and her conscious fell back to her normal perspective.

"That was new," Sam commented.

"Yeah, figured out I could do that by accident," she said. "I'm glad I was able to figure out how to free myself quickly." She watched Dean carefully for his reaction, but other than looking surprised he didn't seem too upset about another new power.

Sam had been reading the file when his expression twisted into one of disgust. "God."

"What?" Dean asked.

"Well, he's got these emails," Sam explained. "Dozens to this lady named Jennifer. This lady who's thirteen years old." Fallon felt the rage she'd felt earlier surge back through her veins. It must have shown in her expression because Dean suddenly walked over to stand behind her and began to massage her shoulders.

"Oh, I don't want to hear this," he groaned as he pulled her a little closer towards his torso.

"It looks like they met in a chat room." Sam said throwing a concerned look at Fallon. "These emails are pretty personal. Look at that. Setting up a time and a place to meet."

"Oh, how wonderful," Fallon spat.

"They were supposed to meet today," Sam said.

"Well, I guess if you're going to stab someone, good timing," Dean commented. "I don't know man, this is weird. I mean, sure, some spirits are out for vengeance, but this one's almost like a do-gooder. Like a…"

"Avenging angel?" Sam supplied. Fallon felt Dean step back. "Well, how else do you explain it, Dean? Three guys not connected to each other all get stabbed through the heart? At least two were world-class pervs, and I bet if you dug deep enough on the other guy…"

"Hey," Dean said cutting him off.

"What?" Sam asked dejectedly.

"You said Carl Gully was a churchgoer, right?" Dean said.

"Yeah?" Sam replied.

"What was the name of his church?" Dean asked.

"Our Lady of Angels," Sam said.

"Of course that'd be the name," Dean muttered under his breath before holding up a church flyer. "Looks like Frank went to the same church."

"So, let's go check it out," Fallon said.

They arrived at the church and began looking around, making it obvious they were new comers. Not long after their arrival a priest made his way over to them.

"Hello," he greeted. "I'm Father Reynolds. I don't believe I've seen you around here before."

"We just moved here," Dean said smoothly. "My name is Dean. This is my brother Sam."

"And who is the young lady with you?" Father Reynolds asked politely.

Fallon blinked in surprise, but quickly pasted a smile on her face. "Oh, I'm…

"She's my wife, Fallon," Dean answered wrapping and arm around her shoulders. Fallon had to place a hand over her mouth, pretending to yawn, to hide the fact that her jaw had just dropped open in shock. Sam coughed a few times trying to hide surprised laughter.

"I'm sorry," Sam said. "I think I picked up a slight cold during the move."

"I know how that goes," Father Reynolds assured him. "I caught a bug that had me out a week when I moved from my last parish. I'm assuming you all are here because you're interested in joining this parish?"

"Yeah, well, you know, we just don't feel right unless we hit church every Sunday," Dean replied.

"Where'd you say you lived before?" Father Reynolds questioned.

"Fremont, Texas," Dean said.

"Really? That's a nice town," Father Reynolds commented. "St. Teresa's parish. You must know the priest there."

"Sure, yeah, no it's uh, Father O'Malley," Dean said quickly.

"Dean, you're thinking of where we lived before Fremont," Fallon answered quickly using her ability to read minds to find out the actual name of the priest. "Father Shaughnessy was the priest of St. Teresa's parish."

"Right," Dean said. "We've had to move a bit the past few years."

"But we're just happy to be here now, Father," Sam said.

"And we're happy to have you," Father Reynolds replied. "We could use some young blood around here."

"Hey listen, I gotta ask," Dean said. "No offense, but, the neighborhood?"

"Well, it's gone to seed a little," Father Reynolds admitted, "but that's why what the church does here is so important. Like I always say, you can expect a miracle but, in the meantime, you work your butt off."

"My grandmother always says that too," Fallon said smiling.

"Your grandmother must be a wise woman," Father Reynolds said.

"We did here about the murders," Dean said bringing the conversation back to the neighborhood.

"Yes," Father Reynolds said sadly. "The victims were parishioners of mine. I'd known them for years."

"And the killers said that an angel made them do that?" Sam asked.

"Yes. Misguided souls to think that God's messenger would appear and incite people to murder," Father Reynolds said. "It's tragic."

"So, you don't believe in those angel yarns, huh?" Dean commented.

"Oh no, I absolutely believe," Father Reynolds stated. "Kind of goes with the job description."

"Father, that's Michael, right?" Sam asked referencing a painting hanging on the wall.

"That's right," Father Reynolds told him. "The archangel Michael with the flaming sword. The fighter of demons. Holy force against evil."

"So, angels aren't necessarily the Hallmark card version that most people think?" Fallon said. "They're fierce?"

"Well, I like to think of them as more loving than wrathful, but yes," Father Reynolds said. "A lot of Scripture paints angels as God's warriors."

"Well, thank you for speaking with us Father," Sam said as they stepped outside.

"Oh, it's my pleasure," Father Reynolds said. "Hope to see you again."

"Hey Father, what is all that for?" Dean asked pointing at a collection of items on the bottom step.

"Oh, that's for Father Gregory," Father Reynolds replied solemnly. "He was a priest here."

"Was?" Dean questioned.

"He passed away right on these steps," Father Reynolds said. "He's interred in the church crypt."

"When did this happen?" Dean asked.

"Two months ago," Father Reynolds answered. "He was shot for his car keys."

"Oh, how awful," Fallon said. "I'm so sorry."

"I am too," the priest said. "He was a good friend. I didn't even have time to administer his last rites. But like I said, it's a tough neighborhood. Ever since he died, I've been praying my heart out."

"For what?" Sam asked.

"For deliverance," Father Reynolds answered. "From the violence and bloodshed around here. We could use a little divine intervention, I suppose."

"Those who ask shall receive," Fallon said. Dean gave her a look. "Matthew7:7-8."

"It was nice meeting all of you," Father Reynolds said. They smiled as the priest went back in the church.

Fallon then rounded on Dean. "Married?!" she cried.

"Well, Catholic priest," Dean replied awkwardly. "I thought maybe he wouldn't approve of a single woman living with two guys.

"So, you decided to marry me to you?" Fallon asked at the same time Sam said, "So you decided to marry her to you?"

"Would you have rather I said you were married to Sam?" Dean asked.

"No!" Fallon said. "Why didn't you just say I was your sister if you were concerned what the priest would think?"

"I don't view you as a sister," Dean said.

"And you view me as a wife?" Fallon cried.

Sam laughed. "Well, you two do fight like a married couple."

"No we don't!" Dean and Fallon both said. Dean shook his head.

"Look, it just came out," he said. "There's no need to make a big deal out of it. Just remember that's our cover if we have to come back to the church."

"Okay," Fallon said.

"Let's just focus our attention back to the case," Sam suggested.

"Well, it's all starting to make sense," Dean said. "Devoted priest dies a violent death? That's vengeful spirit material right there. And he knew all the other stiffs because they went to church here."

"And they probably confessed what they did in confession," Fallon said. "That's how our unsub knew about the victims' crimes."

"Then again, Father Reynolds started praying for God's help about two months ago," Sam interjected. "Right about the time all this started happening."

"Aw, come on man, what's your deal?" Dean sighed.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"You're really pushing the angel angle, Sam," Fallon said.

"You don't believe in angels?" Sam asked.

"I didn't believe in any of the things we've hunted before I started hanging out with you two," Fallon pointed out. "I'm not saying I don't believe, I just don't think it's likely."

"Why not?" Sam asked.

"As Father Reynolds said, no angel is going to incite people to murder," Fallon said. "Anyway, we know Father Gregory is interred here. Let's look into this angle. We'll come back at night to investigate the crypt."

When they came back at night, Fallon took a quick walk around the inside of the church before letting Sam and Dean inside.

"Coast clear?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, we're the only ones here," Fallon said as the boys stepped inside.

"That reminds me though. Here," Dean said shoving a small, plastic container into Fallon's hand. Inside was a fake diamond ring. Fallon gave him a look. "I got it from a vending machine in the motel lobby. You can wear it so the priest doesn't wonder why you don't have a wedding ring."

"Who are you?" Fallon and Sam asked incredulously.

Dean frowned. "What?" he asked grumpily. "I'm just trying to be nice and show you you're an important part of our team, and that I value your presence."

"Oh my god," Fallon sighed in realization. "Is that what this is about?"

"Well, it's just, you were really pissed a few weeks ago," Dean said rubbing the back of his neck worriedly. "I just wanted to make it up to you."

"Dean, you already have. You apologized," Fallon said. "And although I appreciate the gesture, you don't have to fake marry us to show you appreciate me and don't think of me as an unwanted nuisance. You can do that like not treating me like public enemy number one when I get a new power. You kept your cool when I did that thing with the computer earlier."

"So, you don't want the ring?" Dean asked.

Fallon sighed but smiled. "I'll keep the ring for this case," she said slipping it on her ring finger. "After all, you did use one of your quarters to get it for me rather than using it on that vibrating bed you like so much."

"What a sacrifice," Sam said sarcastically. "Can we get back to the case now?"

"Yes," Fallon said. "Let's go." She led the boys into the crypt, and immediately felt the presence of another spirit inside it. She quickened her pace and soon Dean was right beside her. They rounded a corner to a large room with various tombstones. Fallon looked at one that had vines covering it. It was the only one in the room like it.

"I think we found our unsub," Dean said. "I'm going to go tell Sam to get the lead out." Fallon nodded and stayed behind. She was inspecting the tombstone when she heard Dean anxiously calling his brother's name. She quickly fled out of the room and back down the hall to see Sam lying on the floor.

"Sam!" she cried dropping to her knees beside him. Suddenly, he jerked awake.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

"What happened?" Fallon asked.

"Yeah," Sam said dazed. "I'm okay."

"Come on," Dean sighed hauling Sam to his feet. He led them back out to the church and sat Sam down in one of the pews. Fallon was right behind them. Dean was looking at his brother cautiously. "You saw it didn't you?"

"Yeah," Sam replied. "Yeah, I saw an angel."

"You…" Dean stopped and then dug in his coat pocket before holding out a flask towards Sam. "Alright. Here."

"I don't want a drink," Sam said.

Dean shrugged and took a swig from the flask. "So, what makes you think you saw an angel?"

"It just, appeared before me and I just, this feeling washed over me, you know?" Sam said. "Like peace. Like grace."

"You sure nothing got slipped into something you drank?" Fallon suggested.

Sam sighed. "I'm serious," he said. "It spoke to me. It knew who I was."

"It's just a spirit, Sam," Dean sighed. "Okay? It's not the first one to be able to read people's minds. I mean, Fallon can do the same thing."

"Very true," Fallon agreed.

"Okay, let me guess," Dean continued. "You were personally chosen to smite some sinner. You've just got to wait for some divine bat signal, right?"

"Yeah, actually," Sam said.

"Great," Dean sighed. "I don't suppose you asked what this alleged bad guy did?"

"Actually, I did," Sam replied. "And the angel told me he hasn't done anything yet. But he will."

"So now it wants to take out people who haven't yet committed a crime, but potentially could?" Fallon cried. "That would be a lot of people in the population. This is jacked up."

"The angel hasn't been wrong yet!" Sam argued. "Someone's going to do something awful, and I can stop it."

"By stabbing them?" Fallon cried.

"You know," Dean cut in before Sam could reply, "you're supposed to be bad too. Maybe I should just stop you right now."

"You know what?" Sam huffed. "I don't understand! Why can't you even consider the possibility?"

"What? That this is an angel?" Dean said.

"Yes!" Sam exclaimed. "Maybe we're hunting an angel here, and we should stop! Maybe this is God's will."

"Sam, God doesn't send angels to smite people," Fallon said. "He judges peoples' souls when they die. If they're bad, they go to hell. That's how it works."

"You don't know that," Sam said.

"It's what I believe," Fallon replied.

"Well, then why is it so hard for you to grasp that this is what I believe?" Sam asked.

"Okay, alright," Dean said. "You've got faith. That's… good for you. I'm sure it makes things easier. I'll tell you who else had faith like that. Mom. She used to tell me when she tucked me in that angels were watching over us. In fact, that was the last thing she ever said to me."

"You never told me that," Sam said.

"Well, what's to tell?" Dean replied bitterly. "She was wrong. There was nothing protecting her. There's no higher power, there's no God. I mean, there's just chaos, and violence, and random unpredictable evil that comes out of nowhere and rips you to shreds. You want me to believe in this stuff? I'm going to need to see some hard proof. You got any?" Sam said nothing. "Well, I do. Proof that we're dealing with a spirit. Come on."

Dean got up and headed back for the crypt. Fallon and Sam followed him. Fallon picked up her pace, so she could stand beside him and grabbed his hand giving it a squeeze. She went to let go, but he held on, giving her a small smile. When they arrived back in the room with Father Gregory's tombstone, they stood aside so Sam could see the vines.

"That looks like…"

"It's wormwood," Dean said. "Plant associated with the dead. Specifically, the ones that are not at rest. I don't see it growing anywhere else, except over the murdered priest's marker. It's him, Sam."

"Maybe," Sam replied.

"Maybe?" Dean questioned incredulously.

"I don't know what to think," Sam admitted.

"Okay," Dean sighed aggravated. "You want some more proof? I'll give you more proof."

"How?" Fallon asked.

"We'll summon Gregory's spirit," Dean replied.

"You're going to hold a séance in a church?!" Fallon cried scandalized.

"Yeah, we just need a few odds and ends and that séance ritual in Dad's journal," Dean said.

"Oh, a séance," Sam said sarcastically. "Hope Whoopi's available."

"That's funny, actually," Dean replied dryly. "Seriously, if Father Gregory's spirit is around, a séance will bring him right to us. If it's him, then we'll put him to rest."

"But if it's an angel, it won't show," Sam said. "Nothing'll happen."

"Exactly," Dean said. "That's one of the perks of the job, Sam. We don't have to operate on faith. We can know for sure. Don't you want to know for sure?"

"I am not holding a séance in a church," Fallon stated. Both boys turned to her with surprised looks.

"You're not religious," Dean said.

"No, but there are just some lines that shouldn't be crossed," Fallon replied.

"Well, you don't have to participate," Sam said.

"Good. Cause I won't be," Fallon said and walked out of the crypt.

Fallon was reading through a magazine in the Impala the next morning while the boys were in a store shopping for things they would need for their séance. She had held firm on her desire to not participate in something so sacrilegious, refusing to even shop for items they would need. Her protests on the matter didn't seem to matter to either of the Winchester brothers, but at least a séance in a church wouldn't be on her permanent record. She glanced up when Dean got into the car and started her up, and then frowned when she heard Sam banging on the window on the passenger side.

"Dean unlock my door," Sam shouted from outside the car.

"You're not killing anyone, Sam," Dean called back. "I got this guy, you go do the séance."

"Dean!" Sam yelled, but Dean was already pulling away.

"What the hell?" Fallon cried from the back seat.

"He saw the signal," Dean explained. "We need to follow this guy."

"Did you need to be so dramatic about it?" Fallon asked popping into the passenger seat.

"I had time for nothing less," Dean replied. Fallon rolled her eyes but turned her gaze to glance out the windshield. They had quickly caught up to the guy, who was pulled over on the side of the road. Dean pulled in behind him. Not long after a woman came out of an apartment building and slid into the passenger seat of their suspect's car. When he pulled out, Dean did too. They followed him a few blocks before the car turned into an alley. When they got up to the alley the man's car was nowhere to be seen.

"Dammit!" Dean hissed slamming a fist on the steering wheel.

"No worries. I've got it," Fallon said and used her power to teleport to the man's location. She found his car parked in another dark alley. She frowned as she saw him suddenly kiss the woman in the passenger seat. It became apparent quickly to her what was going on, and she felt anger burn through her and the world went red. She marched over to the driver's side door, using her power to wrench it open.

"Let her go!" Fallon hissed grabbing onto the man's shirt caller and dragging him from the car. He landed on the ground at her feet.

"I wasn't doing anything," he cried.

"LIAR!" Fallon shouted holding an arm out to her side and sending the man flying into the wall of a building nearby. She pinned him there and curled her fingers into a fist. The man screamed in pain.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please stop," he begged.

"No," Fallon said making the same gesture again. His screams were louder this time.

"Fallon, stop!"

She glanced over her shoulder and saw Dean approaching her. "He deserves it," she said turning back to face the crying man.

"I'm not saying he doesn't," Dean replied. "He deserves everything you're doing in more, but you're going to kill him, Fallon." Fallon paused her chest heaving with the strength of her anger. She was about to make the gesture again. "You're not a murderer, Fallon." She sighed and as the breath left her body so did her anger. She stepped back from the man and he crumpled to the ground unconscious.

Assured that she wasn't going to kill the man anymore, Dean rushed over to the woman the man had been about to assault. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Are you okay?" Fallon turned to them and saw the woman was shooting terrified looks at her. She felt a pang of guilt flood through her.

Dean noticed and forced the woman to look at him. "She's not going to hurt you," he said.

While both were distracted the man, who had gained consciousness, got up and got into his car. "Dean!" Fallon cried.

"Do you have a cell phone?" Dean asked the woman. She nodded. "Call 9-1-1." Dean ran back to the Impala with Fallon and they took off after the man. They tore across lanes cutting people off in order to stay on the man's tail. At one point they drove off the road in their mad car chase. Suddenly, a pickup truck with metal poles that was in front of the man they were targeting came to a quick stop. One of the poles came loose and flew through the windshield of the man's car. Fallon could see part of the pipe come through the driver's seat after impaling the driver. Dean quickly swerved into the next lane and drove away. He parked the car a few blocks away. They sat for a moment before they both looked at each other.

"I didn't do that," Fallon said.

"I know you didn't," Dean told her. He got out of the car and pulled out his cell phone. Fallon stayed in the passenger seat and closed her eyes. She had almost killed a man. She hadn't even thought about what she was doing. She'd just gone straight in for the kill. Even worse, it had felt good. After a few minutes, Dean came back.

"Did you call the police?" Fallon asked, her eyes closed.

"Yeah," Dean answered.

"Good," she sighed and looked over at Dean, who was staring at her in concern. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Dean asked.

"For what?!" Fallon said incredulously. "For almost killing someone!"

"But you didn't," Dean said.

"Only because you stopped me," Fallon replied.

"I didn't do anything," Dean disagreed. "I only pointed out the obvious. The only one who could have stopped you from killing him was you. And you did, because, as I said, you're not a murderer."

"No, just a vengeful spirit," Fallon muttered.

"You're not vengeful," Dean stated. Fallon shot him a look. "You're not. You reacted how anyone who's been a victim of rape would have wanted to act in that situation. Considering your past, Fallon, it's not surprising you reacted the way you did. That's only human."

"But I'm not human. I'm…"

"Fallon, you're more human than anyone I've ever met," Dean said with conviction.

Fallon shook her head but smiled. "Thanks," she said.

"You're welcome," Dean answered. "And by the way, I also tipped the cops about Carl Gully and that other perv."

"You did?" Fallon asked surprised.

"They shouldn't get away with what they did," Dean said. "Their victims deserve justice."

Fallon's eyes welled up with tears and she threw her arms Dean's neck. "Thank you!" she cried. He hugged her back, their positions awkward as they leaned between seats. When they broke the hug, they were both smiling.

"Do you think Sam already completed the séance?" Fallon asked.

"Yeah," Dean answered. "I'm sure he's bummed too. We're gonna get back to the motel with a brooding Sam."

"We better go cheer him up then," Fallon said. Dean flashed her a smile and they pulled back out on the road.


	12. Chapter 11

**Author's note:** First and foremost I would like to apologize for the long delay in posting this chapter. Life got incredibly stressful for awhile and then I found myself on a reading kick. I will try and do better and get back to the more frequent updates. Second, I also apologize that the chapter I'm posting after such a long delay is really sub-par. I just needed to get it done. I hope though you'll at least be willing to stick around for the remaining chapters. Thank you for reading!

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Supernatural. All rights belong to the creators and writers of the show.

* * *

Fallon teleported back to the Impala and saw Dean leaning against it. She morosely began to walk towards him. Her movement caught his attention and he quickly pushed himself off his car and started walking towards her.

"Did you find him?" he asked her anxiously.

Fallon felt her face crumple. "No!" she cried. "I don't know what's wrong with me! First, I couldn't find Ava. Now Sam. I…"

"Hey, hey," Dean said soothingly. "There's nothing wrong with you, Fallon. This isn't your fault. Someone else is preventing you from finding them."

Fallon shook her head. "I can't stop thinking if I had just stayed at the motel that night…"

"Well, stop thinking that," Dean ordered pulling her into a hug. "It might not have made any difference."

"But…" She was caught off as Dean's cell phone rang. He picked it up.

"Hello?" he said gruffly and then his expression changed to one of relief. "Sammy? Where the hell are you? Are you okay?" His expression twisted back into one of concern. "Hey, hey! Calm down. Where are you? Alright, don't move, Fallon and I are on our way."

"Where is he?" Fallon asked when Dean hung up the phone.

"Later," Dean replied. "Get in the car." For once Dean's brusque manner didn't bother her. She got into the passenger seat and they quickly sped off in Sam's direction.

They eventually arrived at some shady looking motel, and after Dean parked the car, they quickly entered the building and made their way to Sam's room. Dean knocked on the door.

"Sam, it's me," he called. There was no response. Fallon went to blast the door open, but Dean motioned for her to wait. He tried the door handle and found it unlocked. Sam was sitting on a bed with a vacant expression on his face. He glanced over at them.

"Hey, Dean," he croaked. His gaze then slid over to her. "Fallon."

"Sammy," Fallon whispered ducking around Dean and rushing over to Sam. She sat down next to him and threw her arms around his shoulders, but he didn't hug her back or say anything.

"Are you bleeding?" Dean asked. Fallon glanced over at him before looking back at Sam and taking the time to really look him over. The shirt he was wearing was covered in blood and it still looked damp in some places.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed.

"I tried to wash it off," Sam said woodenly as Dean began to pull at the shirt, looking for a wound. "I don't think it's my blood." Dean and Fallon shared a look.

"Whose is it?" Dean asked.

"I don't know," Sam whispered.

"Sam, what the hell happened?" Dean asked.

Sam finally made full eye contact with them. "I don't remember anything," he told them.

A stunned silence filled the room for a moment before Fallon finally took charge. "Okay," she said standing up. She pulled on Sam's arm to bring him to his feet also. "We can piece everything together later. Right now, we need to get you cleaned up." She led him into the motel room's bathroom and used her power to turn on the tap in the shower. "You'll have to gage the water temperature yourself." She turned around to leave and saw Sam standing there woodenly. She sighed. "You're also going to have to undress yourself. I'm not doing it for you."

She was relieved when she saw the corners of his lips twitch up to a small smile for a moment. "Thanks," Sam said beginning to peel the blood-soaked shirt off.

"I'll leave some clean clothes outside the door for you," she told him. "Take your time showering and try to relax." Fallon left the room and went over to Dean who was not sitting on the bed with his face in his hands.

"Hey," she said placing a hand on his shoulder, "you okay?"

"I need to know what happened," Dean sighed, his voice coming out mumbled as he spoke into his hands.

"Dean look at me," Fallon ordered pulling gently at his hands. He lowered them slowly and met her gaze, a desperate plea in his eyes for her to make things better. "We're going to figure out what's going on, I promise, but right now we need to take care of everyone's basic needs."

"I think there are more important things to worry about!" Dean cried getting aggravated now.

"I know, but Sam's in no state to deal with that right now," Fallon said. "Right now, we all just have to breathe."

"I don't think I can," Dean said.

"Well, you're going to have to, because I have a job for you," Fallon said.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"I saw a convenient store a few blocks away from the motel on our way in," Fallon said. "Go pick up some food. Comfort food. And while you're doing that, ask around and see if anyone's noticed Sam."

"Right," Dean said, happy to have something to do and a small start to piece together what had happened with Sam. "I'll be right back."

"Take your time," Fallon said watching him leave. She then quickly dug through Sam's duffel bag and pulled out a clean shirt, jeans, and underwear for him. She left in on a chair outside of the bathroom. She then quickly got to work straightening up the room and checked for any blood stains on the carpet or bedspread. She was relieved when she didn't see any. When she had everything sorted the way she wanted them she sat down on the bed. About ten minutes later the shower stopped. Not long after Sam came out dressed and looking more alert than he'd been before.

"Feeling better?" she asked slipping over on the mattress a little so he would sit beside her.

"I guess," Sam replied rubbing his fists against his temple. "I just wish I could remember what happened."

"We'll figure that out, Sam," Fallon assured him squeezing his shoulder gently. "We just need to take it one step at a time."

Sam nodded before glancing around the room. "Where's Dean?"

"I sent him out to get some groceries," Fallon said. "And to see if he could get any news on you. He should be back soon." As if she had conjured him there, the motel room door opened, and Dean walked in.

"What'd you find out?" Sam asked as Dean set down the grocery bag.

"You checked in two days ago under the name Richard Sambora," Dean said. "Of course, I think the scariest part about this whole thing is the fact that you're a Bon Jovi fan."

"Dean," Sam sighed.

"Your room's been quiet," Dean continued. "Nobody's noticed anything unusual."

"You mean no one saw me walking around covered in blood," Sam stated.

"Well, small blessings," Fallon said.

"How the hell did I get here?" Sam cried. "What happened to me?"

"I don't know, but you're, you're okay," Dean said. "That's what matters. Everything else we can deal with."

"Oh really?" Sam snapped. "Cause what if I hurt someone? Or worse."

"Sam…"

"What if this is what Dad warned you about?" Sam pushed.

"It is way too soon to start worrying about that," Fallon intervened. "We don't know what happened right now. We need to treat this like any other case."

"Fallon's right," Dean said. "Now, what's the last thing you remember?"

"Just the three of us in that motel room in West Texas," Sam said. "We were going out to get burgers, and…"

"West Texas?" Dean said cutting him off. "That was over a week ago."

"That's it," Sam replied. "Next thing I knew I was sitting here. Bloody. Felt like I'd been asleep for a month."

"Okay," Dean replied, and Fallon could see how hard he was trying not to act freaked out. "Retrace your steps. The manager said you left yesterday afternoon and he never saw you come back, so…"

"Maybe you came back in through the window?" Fallon suggested. Dean walked over to the window and pushed the curtain back. A smear of blood was on the glass.

"I'd say that's accurate," Dean said.

"Well," Fallon said standing up, "I don't think we're going to figure out anything more in here. Let's check the grounds." She phased through the window to stand in front of the motel room and glanced around. If she went right, she'd find herself in front of the motel, but if Sam had come from that way it's likely he would have been seen. If she went left, she'd find herself in a large parking lot that had a thin wood around its perimeter. There was a lot less of a chance that he would have encountered someone in this direction. Sam and Dean came around the corner towards the front of the building and joined her.

"Well?" Dean asked.

"I think he most likely came back to the motel from this direction," Fallon said

"Okay," Dean said. "Let's start walking." They were in the parking lot now away from the building. "Recognize anything?"

"Not really," Sam said dejectedly and then came to a halt. "Wait."

Fallon glanced at him and then over to a garage that was on the back perimeter. "What is it, Sam?"

"I think I was here," Sam asked starting towards the garage.

"You remember?" Dean questioned.

"Not really, it just," Sam paused before continuing, "feels familiar, you know?"

"Well, let's go check it out," Fallon said, and they walked over to the garage. Fallon tugged at the padlock on the door, but it was locked. She raised her hand to unlock it, but Sam shoved it back down.

"Wait," he said and began searching his jean pockets. He pulled out a key. "I found these in my old jeans." He tried the key on the lock, and it worked. Inside the garage was an old, beat-up VW Bug.

"Oh, please tell me you didn't steal this," Dean groaned. Sam ignored him as he walked over to the car and opened the driver's side door.

"More blood," Sam said pointing at the steering wheel.

"Back seat," Dean said, and Sam pulled out a blood-stained knife.

"You think I used this on someone?" Sam asked disturbed.

"I'm not thinking anything," Dean said after a moment.

Fallon dug around through the car and ducked back out carrying a pack of cigarettes. "Um, since when do you smoke?" Sam shrugged.

Dean grabbed the pack off her and looked at Sam. "Okay, now this is disturbing," he said. "This couldn't have been you. Had to have been somebody else. Someone who smokes menthols."

"Here," Fallon said coming back out of the car after digging around again. "It's a gas receipt from a few towns over."

"Let's go," Sam said walking out of the garage. Fallon and Dean followed him to the Impala, and they all got in. Dean drove them to the gas station and looked over the receipt again.

"Alright, the receipts for ten gallons at pump number two," he read. "You getting any goosebumps yet?" Sam shook his head. "Maybe someone inside will remember you. Come on."

The three walked into the store and up to the cashier at the single register. The cashier glanced up and glowered at Sam. "You!" he cried. "Outta here now. I'm calling the cops."

"You talking to him?" Dean asked confused.

"Yeah, I'm talking to him," the cashier replied heatedly. "Jerk comes in here yesterday, stinking drunk, grabs a forty from the fridge, starts chugging."

"This guy?" Dean said incredulously turning to Sam. "You're drinking malt liquor?"

"Not after he whipped the friggin' bottle at my head," the cashier said.

"This guy?" Dean asked again, and Fallon could understand why. Sam didn't ever lose his cool like that.

"Look, I'm really sorry if I did anything…"

"Tell your story walking, pal," the cashier brushed Sam off. "Po-po will be here in five."

"Wait, wait," Dean said. "Put the phone down. Sam, go wait in the car." Sam opened his mouth to protest but Fallon tugged at his hand.

"I'll wait with you," she said and they both went back to the Impala. They waited silently for Dean who came out of the store a few minutes later. He didn't say anything as he approached them and just got in the car. They joined him and he drove off. They were a few miles away before he finally spoke.

"What's going on with you, Sam?" he asked. "Cause smoking, throwing bottles at people? I mean, that sounds more like me than you."

"Dean, wait, right here," Sam said. "Turn down that road."

"What?" Dean asked.

"I don't know how I know. I just do," Sam replied. Dean didn't say anything but turned onto the road. After a few minutes' drive it led to a large house. There were plenty if emergency lights and security cameras planted outside the house.

"Military?" Fallon theorized. "Paranoid cop?"

"Maybe," Dean answered.

"Whoever lives here, I'd say they don't like surprises," Sam said.

"Should we knock?" Dean asked after parking the car.

"Yeah, I guess," Sam replied. They walked up to the front porch and knocked on the door. No one answered. Sam sidled around the side of the house before calling them over. Fallon and Dean headed over to him and saw glass from a broken window spill out on the ledge and the ground beneath it.

"I'm surprised the cops didn't show," Dean said. "You'd think a place like this would have an alarm."

"Those are easy to disable," Fallon said.

"Yeah, they are," Sam agreed motioning to the disabled alarm on the wall. They walked back to the front of the house and Fallon opened the door for the two brothers. They glanced around the inside of the home. A fight had clearly taken place. Glass and other items laid scattered across the floor. Fallon used her powers to turn on the lights so they could see better and then screamed. Lying in the middle of the floor was a corpse of a middle-aged man with his throat slashed open.

"Oh my god!" Fallon cried backing into Dean who wrapped an arm around her to hold her up.

Sam looked horrified. "I did this," he said.

"We don't know that," Dean replied quickly.

"What else do you need?" Sam asked aggravated. "I mean, how else do you explain the car, the knife, the blood…"

"I don't know!" Dean cried. "Why don't you tell me? Look, even if you did do this, I'm sure you had a reason; self-defense, he was a bad son of a bitch, something!" Dean sat Fallon down in a nearby chair and then began to run his hands over the corpse. "He doesn't have any ID."

"I need your lockpick," Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"I need your lockpick," Sam repeated. Dean handed it over to him and Sam walked over to a double-doored closet and used the lockpick to open it. One the back wall of the closet firearms were hung in abundance. Charts and clippings covered the rest.

"Either this guy's a Unabomber…"

"Or a hunter," Sam finished for his brother. "I think I killed a hunter."

"Let's find out," Dean said looking at a security camera hanging on the wall. "Fallon, do you think you could hack into this guy's computer to access the security footage?" After a moment with no reply both boys turned to look at her.

"Fallon?" Sam asked softly.

Fallon glanced up from the dead body she'd been staring at in a daze for the past five minutes. "I'm sorry," she said. "What?"

"We need to look at the security footage," Dean explained. "Think you can access that for us?"

"Yeah," Fallon answered getting to her feet slowly. "I can do that." She sat down in front of the computer and turned it on. She fiddled around with it for a moment and found the footage they wanted. She rewound the tape for a bit before stopping when she Sam first come into the house. He and the now dead guy began fighting. The fight moved out of the cameras view. A few minutes later Sam re-entered the screen dragging the corpse into the room. Fallon froze the screen and stood back up and walked away. She didn't want to see more.

"I need some air," she muttered and walked outside, relieved when neither of the boys called her out on that lie. She stumbled down the stairs on the front porch and then ambled across the yard putting distance between herself and the crime scene. She stopped when she reached a large oak tree and then suddenly folded over, chest and stomach heaving as the growing panic she'd felt all day consumed her. She closed her eyes shut tightly and tried to force the image of Sam dragging the hunter's corpse out of her mind.

She didn't understand how this could be happening. She knew Sam. He wasn't violent. He wasn't a killer. These thoughts helped calm her down. Whatever was going on here couldn't be cut and dry. This wasn't the end of the story. It was just the beginning. They still didn't know everything yet. Fallon took a few deep breaths and stood up straight, turning around to face the house. She couldn't condemn Sam for this murder yet, not until they painted the complete picture. She stared back to the house to help the boys, but she had only gotten halfway across the yard when they both came out of the house.

Fallon froze as Sam walked in her direction to the car. She felt electricity flood through her, the way it felt when she was around another ghost…or a demon. She took a few steps closer and the feeling grew stronger. She thought about the whole event. He'd gone and left without warning and his entire behavior had changed. He also couldn't remember a large period of time. But there was no sulfur. His eyes never changed, not even when fighting the dead hunter. She wasn't sure.

"Fallon!" She jumped and glanced over at Dean, who was now behind the wheel of the Impala. "Let's go. We're getting out of here." She nodded and popped into the backseat. She decided not to say anything for now. If Sam was possessed, she didn't want to alert the demon that she was suspicious.

The drive back to the motel was silent. No one said a word until they re-entered their room. "Alright, we get a couple of hours sleep and then we put this place in our rearview mirror," Dean stated. Sam and Fallon stayed silent. "Look, I know this is bad, okay? You gotta snap out of it. Say something!"

"Just get some sleep and leave in the morning?" Sam said. "Murder. That's what I did."

"Maybe," Dean replied. Sam scoffed and Fallon averted her gaze. "Hey, we don't know…shapeshifter."

"Oh, come on," Sam cried. "You know it wasn't. You saw the tape. There was no eye flare."

Fallon frowned as she felt the electricity flow through her once more. The feeling was stronger this time. She glanced at Sam and really looked him over. There was an expression on his face. One she'd never seen before.

"Yeah, but it wasn't you!" Dean said. "Alright? I mean, yeah, it might have been you, but it wasn't you."

The energy felt familiar, she realized, her skin prickling. She been in the presence if this being before.

"Well, I think it was," Sam said. "I think maybe more than you know."

She tried to think of where she'd felt this particular energy before.

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean asked.

There had been an alter and blood involved. And then an exorcism.

"For the last few weeks I've been having…I've been having these feelings," Sam admitted.

Her eyes widened as it came to her.

"What feelings?" Dean asked.

She began to shake, and she glanced over at Sam in horror.

"Rage," Sam said. "Hate. And I can't stop it. It just gets worse."

Neither of the boys noticed her reactions.

"You never told me this," Dean said quietly.

She had to warn Dean.

"I didn't want to scare you," Sam said.

She had to warn him before something bad happened.

"Dean, the yellow-eyed demon, you know he has plans for me," Sam continued. "And we both know that he's turned other children into killers before."

She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

"No one can control you, but you," Dean said.

Fallon shook her head. That's not true. That's exactly what's happening now.

"It sure doesn't seem like that, Dean," Sam replied. "It feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely I'm…I'm becoming who I'm meant to be. I mean, you said it once yourself. I gotta face up to who I am."

'No,' Fallon mouthed the word, but no sound came out.

"I didn't mean this!" Dean cried dismayed.

She had to tell Dean. She had to tell him now.

"But it's still true," Sam said quietly. "You know that. Dad knew that, too. That's why he told you, if it ever came to this…"

She rose to her feet.

"Shut up, Sam," Dean said.

She took a deep breath.

"Dean, you promised him," Sam said. "You promised me."

She let it out.

"No," Dean said. "Listen to me. We're gonna figure this out. Okay? I mean, there's gotta be a way, right?"

She opened her mouth.

"Yeah, there is," Sam said pulling a handgun from his duffel bag and holding it out for Dean. "I don't want to hurt anyone else. I don't want to hurt you."

"Don't listen, Dean! It's Meg!" she cried causing both to turn and stare at her. "The demon. She's possessing him!" Sam's face contorted into a twisted smile before he pistol-whipped Dean, who fell unconscious to the floor. Enraged, Fallon extended her arm and Sam's body flew backwards into the wall. The smile didn't fall from his face.

"Very clever, Fallon," the demon said. "I was wondering if you'd figure it out."

"Get out of him," Fallon growled.

The demon laughed. "I don't think so," it said. "I like it here. So roomy."

Fallon used her telekinesis to bring John's journal into her hand and opened it to an exorcism ritual. "I won't ask again," she warned the demon.

Sam's face twisted into an evil smirk, and then he stepped away from the wall. "You're powerful, Fallon," the demon admitted. "But not as powerful as me." Fallon opened her mouth to start the ritual but was flung back into the wall behind her. Sam was suddenly right in front of her, his eyes black. "I'd love to have some fun with you, but lucky for you that doesn't suit my purpose right now."

"Go to hell," Fallon spat out.

"Never again," the demon said wrapping a hand around her throat.

Suddenly, Fallon's body was seized with pain. It grew worse and worse, until finally she blacked out.

"Fallon!" She heard a voice calling her. "Can you hear me? Fallon!"

Slowly, she opened her eyes and frowned when she saw she was in a parking lot. Thoughts started to swim slowly through her head as she tried to place her current location with her memories, and then her memories crashed back into her with the force of a freight train. She jerked upright in her seat and began to reach for the door handle.

"Hey! Hey!" the voice she'd heard called again and steadying hands gripped her shoulders to turn her to face them. "It's just me."

"Dean!" Fallon cried glancing over him from head to foot. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he assured her. "Are you okay?"

She ignored his question. "Dean, it's Meg," she blurted out. "Or the demon that was possessing that Meg girl. It's possessing Sam."

"I know," Dean said. "I heard you last night before I got pistol whipped."

"We need to find out where it's taking Sam," Fallon said.

"I've already got that covered," Dean told her starting the car. Fallon realized now they were in the Impala.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Minnesota," Dean answered.

"What's in Minnesota?" Fallon asked.

"Jo Harvelle," Dean answered.

They pulled up in front of a shady looking saloon and rushed out of the car. They burst through the saloon's door and saw Sam hovering over a tied-up Jo.

"Sam!" Dean shouted and unclipped a flash and flung holy water at Sam. Sam hissed as his skin burnt from the contact. He growled before turning and running out the back of the saloon.

"Go after him," Fallon said. "I'll be right there." She watched Dean tear off after his brother before hurrying to Jo. She snapped her fingers and the rope tied around the blonde girl loosened.

"What's going on?" Jo asked.

"Sam's possessed," Fallon answered brusquely.

"Yeah, that was pretty clear," Jo said getting to her feet. "What does the demon want." Fallon ignored her as she headed towards the exit Sam and Dean had used. "Fallon!"

"I have to go help Dean," Fallon called over her shoulder leaving the saloon behind.

"Fallon!"

Fallon rushed out into the night. Behind the saloon, piles of crates created a maze. She followed one path just to hit a dead-end, forcing her to turn around and go down another. She tried to listening for any sound of movement, but the boys must have been out of her hearing range. She used her supernatural powers to try and get a placement for the boys, but that wasn't working either. She'd be able to sense Dean for a moment, but then she'd lose bearing on him, presumably because he got close to Sam.

Finally, she turned a corner that led her out into the open. She saw foot prints heading towards a river that was nearby. She couldn't see either Sam or Dean, but she thought she heard muted footsteps ahead of her.

"Fallon, wait!" Jo said coming to stand beside her.

"I can't wait," Fallon said. "I have to get to Dean."

"If it's a demon we're dealing with here we need all hands-on deck," Jo replied keeping pace with her.

"Have you ever actually encountered a demon before?" Fallon asked.

"Don't try to act like you have a ton of experience with them." Jo snapped. "Until a year ago you didn't know much about the supernatural world."

"No, but I've at least interacted with demons, so I think that makes me a little more qualified than you," Fallon said.

"Look, I know you don't like me, but if you want to save both boys you need to get over it and work with me," Jo said.

"I don't have to do…" Fallon cut off as she heard a gunshot from the river. She took off running. "Dean!" She heard Jo running right behind her. Upon reaching the river she saw a bridge and ran up onto it. She looked around the shore on one side but couldn't see Sam or Dean. "Dean!"

"I've got an idea," Jo said coming to stand beside her. She pulled out her phone and dialed Dean's number. Both girls froze when they heard his ringtone coming from under the bridge. They ran back down the bridge, following the sound until they arrived at Dean's still body sprawled on the bank.

"Dean!" Fallon cried shaking his shoulder. "Dean!"

"Son of a bitch!" Dean groaned squirming away from his grasp.

"Hey, take it easy," Jo said helping Dean sit up.

"Where's Sam?" he asked.

"I don't know," Jo replied. "We've been looking for you. Come on, get up." Dean groaned as he got to his feet, clutching his shoulder the whole time.

"What happened to your shoulder?" Fallon asked remembering the gunshot.

"It's nothing, Fallon," Dean grumbled, but his face was contorted with pain.

She batted his hand away from his shoulder and gaped at the gunshot wound. "Oh my god!" she cried.

"It's nothing," Dean said. "Fallon it's not that bad."

"You were shot!" Fallon cried, her voice rising several octaves.

"It's not fatal," Dean said.

"Not if we get it cleaned up," Jo said. "Fallon, take his other side. We'll treat the wound back inside." Fallon ducked under Dean's other arm and together, she and Jo got him back to the saloon and maneuvered him into a chair. The effort brought Fallon back into her head. She felt less panicked now, and much more like herself.

"How could you let yourself get shot?" she scolded Dean as Jo walked off to get supplies to care for the wound.

"I didn't let myself get shot," Dean said. "It just happened."

"Well, then why weren't you more careful?" Fallon replied. Dean just gave her a look, but the corners of his mouth were twitching. He was trying to hold back a smile. She didn't hold her own smile back. She appreciated that he let her rant at him as a distraction for her slowly settling nerves.

"Can you pulled back the sleeve to your t-shirt or do I need to cut it?" Jo asked rejoining them. Dean grabbed his sleeve and rolled it up, baring his shoulder, grimacing with the motion. Jo inspected the wound.

"No exit wound," she commented.

Dean made a face. "Would it really be a bad idea to leave the bullet sit in there?" Jo and Fallon both gave him a pointed look. He sighed. "Okay. Have at it." Jo grabbed some type of medical device and poured some alcohol over it to sterilize it. She then handed a bottle of whiskey to Dean. "Thanks." Fallon settled down on his other side and slid her hand in his. Dean looked down at their entwined hands before meeting her gaze.

"That might not be a good idea," he said.

Fallon rolled her eyes. "I'm a ghost, Dean," she said.

Dean nodded. "Right." His grip then tightened like a vice on her hand as Jo began digging around in his shoulder for the bullet.

"Don't be such a baby," Jo chided.

"God!" Dean groaned.

"Almost," Jo soothed. "Alright, got it. Got it." She pulled away from his shoulder and dropped a bloodstained bullet in a clear glass of alcohol on the table. She handed Dean the bottle of whiskey again.

"God, you're a butcher," Dean grumbled after gulping down a few swigs of the whiskey.

"You're welcome," Jo answered sarcastically as she began to wrap the wound in gauze.

"Alright, are we done?" Dean complained.

"When I'm done patching you up," Jo replied.

"I have to catch up with Sam," Dean said. "That demon has him gunning for fellow hunters."

"Do you know where he's going next?" Fallon asked.

"Bobby's," Dean answered. "He's probably already halfway there."

"You won't get there before he does," Jo said.

"You haven't experienced my driving," Dean replied.

"Even with you behind the wheel you won't get there in time," Fallon said. "But I can."

Dean nodded. "Okay. You pop in and give Bobby a heads up. I'll meet you there."

Fallon nodded. "See you there." She glanced over at Jo. "Thanks for the help." She teleported away before getting a response.

She popped into Bobby's office room calling his name. She heard something fall to the floor and turned around to see Bobby sitting at his desk, a surprised look at his face. A book lay face down on the floor, pages crumpled where it landed.

"I guess I could have knocked," she said sheepishly.

Bobby gave her a very thin smile. "I guess I'll go let the boys in," he said standing up.

"No!" Fallon said. "That's not why I'm here?" Bobby gave her a suspicious look. She sighed. "Sam's possessed."

"What?" Bobby asked.

"Meg's possessing him," Fallon said. "Or the demon that possessed Meg is possessing him." Bobby was looking at her as if she'd grown two heads. "You know the girl who died in your living room? You remember her?"

"I don't think you forget someone dying in your living room," Bobby replied dryly. "Why are you here if Sam's possessed? Shouldn't you be helping Dean with an exorcism?"

"Because the possessed Sam is coming your way with the sole purpose of killing you," Fallon replied. "I'm your warning."

Bobby nodded. "How long do you think we have?"

"An hour, maybe," Fallon said. "He's probably halfway here."

"Okay," Bobby sighed. "Pick up that book that fell over and open to page seventy-three."

"What's on page seventy-three?" Fallon asked as the book flew into her hands.

"That's the page I left off on," Bobby answered.

"So, you just want me to mark the page?" Fallon asked.

"Bookmark's on the desk," Bobby called over his shoulder as he moved out of the room. Fallon looked at his retreating back and then down at the desk where a brown, leather bookmark laid flat in the center. She marked the page and left the book on the desk before hurrying after Bobby.

"I don't think you understand the urgency of this situation," Fallon said. "Sam's on his way here now. And he's possessed. By a demon."

"You've said," Bobby answered pulling a bear out of the fridge.

"So, we should be preparing some kind of defense," Fallon stated.

Bobby sighed and glanced at her, meeting her gaze squarely. "Listen, Fallon, we don't know each other so I'll explain this to you this one time," he said. "I am prepared for everything. I got a plan A, a Plan B, all the way down to Plan Z."

"Even for demon attacks?" Fallon challenged.

"There's a devil's trap in every room in this house," Bobby told her. "Drew them up after your last visit here." Fallon frowned and then swept the house. When she came back to the kitchen, Bobby looked amused. "Find them?"

"I guess you didn't need the warning," she replied, more than a little put out that her heroics were useless.

"No, but I appreciate the gesture," Bobby said. Fallon started to smile and then saw the sack of salt laying out on the table.

"You sure about that?" she questioned.

"Don't be so mistrusting," Bobby said smiling. "I don't plan on attacking you with the salt."

"Just going to leave me in a salt circle," Fallon challenged. "You know I can get out of them, right?"

"Look, the demon in Sam will sense your presence if you're not in a salt ring," Bobby said. "It'll be instantly on guard. I need to take it by surprise."

"I'm pretty sure it'll know I'm here if it sees me standing in your kitchen," Fallon said flatly.

"You're not going to be in the kitchen," Bobby told her. "You'll be in the hall closet."

"You're literally going to lock me in your closet?" Fallon cried.

"Fallon, I'm trusting you," Bobby said. "I need you to trust me. When I get the demon possessing Sam secured, I'll let you out. I promise." Fallon sighed, but nodded her head in agreement. She followed Bobby out to the hall closet and walked in, ducking behind moving coats so she could stand in the back. She watched Bobby draw a line of salt across the inside of the closet's entrance. He met her eyes again before shutting the door. "The second the demon's secure."

"Okay," Fallon agreed. Bobby nodded and shut the door.

She heard Sam arrive, and not too long after that a cry of pain. There was a sound of a small scuffle and then silence. Fallon tapped her foot impatiently. She was about to break the salt circle herself, when Bobby opened the door and ran his foot through.

"See," he said as she stepped out. "Told you I'd let you out of there."

"Thanks," Fallon said, but she was looking into the living room where she saw Sam tied to a chair.

"He'll be fine," Bobby assured her. "Got a text from Dean. He should be hear within an hour."

Fallon nodded. "Want me to wait outside?"

"If you can't keep your mouth shut while I go back to my book," Bobby replied. "Otherwise, you can lounge around here. I have plenty of books you might like." Fallon didn't say anything. She followed him into his study. He picked up his book and sat down to read it at his desk. Fallon searched through the shelves before grabbing a book for herself. They sat in companionable silence until they heard a car pulling up to the house.

"Dean," Fallon said springing to her feet and running for the door. She swung it open and flung her arms around his neck.

Dean groaned. "Not the best time for that," he said, but wrapped an arm around her waist anyway.

"Sorry," Fallon said stepping back. "How's the shoulder?"

"Hurts like a bitch," Dean admitted.

"What happened to your shoulder?" Bobby asked watching them from the doorway to the living room. He looked mildly amused.

Dean's gaze landed on Sam's figure behind Bobby. "That bastard shot me." He walked over to Sam and smacked him smartly on the face. "Hey."

Sam came to and glanced around him. A smirk crawled onto his face. "Dean, back from the dead," he said. "Getting to be a regular thing for you, isn't it? Like a cockroach."

"How about I smack that smartass right out of your mouth?" Dean suggested.

"Oh, careful now," the demon mocked. "Wouldn't want to bruise this fine packaging."

"Don't worry," Dean replied. "This isn't going to hurt Sam much." He picked up a bucket that had been placed nearby. "You on the other hand…" The demon screamed as the holy water covered him. "Feel like talking now?"

"Sam's still my meat puppet," the demon hissed. "I'll make him bite off his tongue."

"You won't be in him long enough," Dean stated flatly. "Bobby." Bobby stepped forward with a book open and started reading an exorcism ritual. Sam started to writhe in his chair. An agonized expression on his face as Bobby continued to read from the book, and then he began to laugh. Bobby stopped reading.

"Oops," the demon mocked. "Doesn't seem to be working. See, I learned a few new tricks." The demon began to mutter something in Latin and the fire in the fireplace flared as the room began to shake.

"What's happening?" Fallon asked.

"I don't know," Dean replied. "This isn't going like I pictured."

"It's using a binding link!" Bobby cried pointing to a burn mark on Sam's forearm. "It's locked itself inside Sam's body!"

"Well that's unfortunate," Fallon commented as a crack started spreading across the ceiling.

"What the hell do we do?" Dean asked.

"I don't know!" Bobby said as the crack broke the devil's trap.

"I suggest we figure that out quickly," Fallon replied as Sam broke free from his confinement.

"That's better," the demon said flinging Bobby in one direction to the left and then Dean to the right. Fallon felt herself get lifted off her feet and thrown back into the front parlor. She struggled to center herself leaning up on her elbows until she was in a half-upright position. She saw Sam advancing on Dean, beating him when he got him.

Fallon felt her temper flare and she got back to her feet. She stormed back into the room and extended an arm out in front of her. Sam froze mid punch. "Let him go now," Fallon ordered and used her power to slam Sam into the adjacent wall.

The motion caused him to drop Dean. It snarled as it got to Sam's feet and advanced on her. "You really want to do this again?" it asked. "I've already proved you can't beat me."

"I don't need to beat you," Fallon said. "I just needed to distract you." Sam frowned and then reared back as Bobby lurched towards him, but it was too late. The scalding hot fire poker landed on the binding mark, breaking it. It screamed and then a rush of black smoke poured out of Sam's mouth and flew out the chimney. Sam stumbled back into the wall and then looked around confused.

"Sammy?" Dean asked walking up to him.

"Did I miss anything?" Sam asked. Dean punched him and then passed out. Sam looked confused.

Later, after the boys had cleaned themselves up and Fallon had helped Bobby clear up the mess that had been made, they were ready to leave.

"Before you go, take these," Bobby said passing necklaces with a pentagram on it.

"What are they?" Sam asked.

"Charms," Bobby answered. "They'll fend off possession. That demon's still out there. This'll stop it from getting back up in ya."

"You need to work on your phrasing," Fallon commented slyly. Bobby chuckled and shot her a smile.

"You lot be careful," he said as they headed out the door.

"You too," Sam and Dean said. The three of them got back in the Impala and drove away.

"What a mess that was," Fallon sighed.

"Let's just put it out of our minds for a little while," Dean said tersely. Fallon frowned and looked back and forth at both brothers. She hoped this didn't develop into one of their fights.


	13. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** This chapter did not want to be written. I swear I've been working on it for a month. I'm glad it's done. Hopefully I won't struggle as much with the next one. I also promise the next chapter will be much better than this one. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thanks for reading!

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Supernatural. All rights belong to the creators and writers of the show.

 **P.S.:** To help clarify the point of views for the flashback scenes in this chapter if the flashback is written and the words are just italicized it's Sam's pov. If the words are italicized and in boldface it's Dean's pov. If they are just in boldface the pov in unclear.

* * *

If it were still possible for her to get a migraine, she'd have one. That's what Fallon thought as she sat back against the headboard of Dean's bed and spared a glance at each of her two boys. Sam sat at the motel table with books spread out around him. He had a pinched look on his face. Dean was lounging on Sam's bed carelessly eating… something undiscernible. He had his radio blasting beside him. There was a growing tension in the air. Fallon was half-tempted to light a match and see if it had become flammable.

"Dude," Sam said suddenly. He was clearly annoyed. "You mind not eating those on MY bed?"

"No, I don't mind," Dean replied dismissively shoving another handful of…food?, into his mouth. "How's research going?"

Sam slammed down the book he was reading. "You know how it's going? Slow. You know how it would go a heck of a lot faster? If I had my computer."

"Hmm," Dean hummed.

"Can you turn that down please?" Sam asked, motioning at the radio.

"Yeah, absolutely," Dean replied and turned the volume up.

"Boys…"

"You know what? Maybe you should just go somewhere else for a while," Sam suggested cutting Fallon off.

Dean shut off the radio and glared at Sam. "Hey, I'd love to," he said. "That's a great idea. Unfortunately, my car's all screwed to hell."

"Boys…"

"Dean, I told you, I have nothing to do wi…" A loud knock on the door silenced them.

"Oh, thank God," Fallon sighed springing up off the bed and rushing for the door. She pulled it open to reveal Bobby standing on the other side. "Thank God you're here! I can't take it anymore."

"Hello to you, too," Bobby said frowning at her with a look of confusion. Fallon, though, was smiling as she led him into the room.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean greeted him.

"It's good to see you again so soon," Bobby replied.

"Yeah, uh, thanks for coming," Sam said.

"So, um, what didn't you want to talk to me about on the phone?" Bobby asked.

"It's this job we're working on," Sam told him. "We… we weren't sure you'd believe us."

Bobby scoffed. "Well, I can believe a lot," he said.

"Yeah, no. no, it's just, we've never seen anything like it," Sam said.

"Not even close," Dean added.

"Well, why don't you begin at the beginning," Bobby suggested.

"Yeah, um, alright," Sam agreed and the group sat down. "It all started when we caught wind of an obit. A professor took a nosedive from a fourth story window, only there's a campus legend that the building's haunted. So, we pretexted as reporters from the local paper:

 _Sam and Fallon sat across from two college students at one of the tables inside a bar. He placed a tape recorder down on the table and pressed record before he began to question the two._

 _"So, you were both students of the professor that took a swan dive?" he asked._

 _"Yeah," the male student said. He'd told them his name was Curtis. "We both had the professor for Ethics and Morality."_

 _"Yeah?" Sam questioned. "So, why do you think he did it?"_

 _"Who knows?" the girl, Jen, replied. "I mean, he was tenured. Had a wife and kids. His book is a really big deal. Then again… who's to say it was a suicide." Sam could see Fallon shooting him a meaningful look out of the corner of his eye. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod._

 _"Jen, come on," Curtis scoffed._

 _"What else could it be?" Sam asked sounding surprised._

 _"It's a bunch of crap," Curtis insisted. "It's a total urban legend."_

 _"Yeah, well, Heather's mom went to school here, and she knew the girl," Jen said._

 _"Wait, what girl?" Sam asked confused._

 _"Thirty years ago, this girl was having an affair with some professor," Jen said. "He broke it off, she jumped out of the window and killed herself."_

 _"Sounds a tad dramatic," Fallon muttered. Sam held back a laugh. Although he personally agreed with her, he also thought she had some nerve to call someone else dramatic when she'd blown a gasket earlier that week over Dean admitting he'd never seen a Harry Potter movie._

 _"You know her name?" Sam asked Jen._

 _"No," Jen replied, "but they say she jumped from room six-six-nine. Get it? You turn the nine upside down? So now she haunts the building. And anyone who sees her? They don't live to tell the tale."_

 _Curtis snorted. "If they don't live to tell the tale then how does the tale get told?"_

 _"Curtis, shut up!" Jen snapped._

 _"You know what, uh, thanks a lot guys," Sam said packing up. "Excuse me."_

 _"Well, he has some kissing ass to do if he wants to get laid tonight," Fallon said as they walked away._

 _"No kidding," Sam chuckled._

 _"Think there's anything behind her story?" Fallon asked._

 _"Not sure," Sam said. "Maybe." The two of them made their way to the bar where they found Dean slugging back three shots filled with some purple liquid that looked like grape cough syrup._

 _"What are those?" Fallon asked, nose wrinkled in disgust._

 _Dean belched. "I don't know," he slurred. "I think they're call purple nurples?"_

 _"Okay, well, listen," Sam said. "I think we should go check out the professor's office."_

 _"Oh, no, no, no, no," Dean protested. "I can't right now. I've got some feisty little wildcat on the hook. I'm about to, zzzzp, reel her in. I'll introduce you."_

 _"That's not necessary," Fallon replied coolly._

 _"Dean…"_

 _"Starla!" Dean shouted over his shoulder. "Starla, hey! This is my shuttle co-pilot Major Tom. Major Tom, Starla."_

 _The blonde girl smiled at him. "Enchante."_

 _"Hi," Sam replied unimpressed. Suddenly, Starla gagged. She quickly covered her mouth before swallowing and then glancing back at him, grinning._

 _"Sorry," she demurred. "Just trying to keep my liquor down."_

 _"I bet you find her picture next to the word bimbo in the dictionary," Fallon muttered._

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Dean cried. "Hold on a minute."

"What?" Sam asked annoyed at being cut off.

"That is not how it happened," Dean said.

"No?" Sam replied. "So, you never drank a purple nurple?"

"Yeah, maybe that," Dean conceded, "but I don't say things like 'feisty little wildcat'. And her name wasn't Starla."

"Then what was it?" Sam questioned.

"I don't know," Dean said after a moment before turning to Bobby, "but she was a real classy chick. She was a grad student, anthropology and folklore. We were talking about local ghost stories….

 _ **"Here's to…"**_

 _ **"Here's to us," Dean said clinking his shot glass filled with some drink called a purple nurple. He'd met the girl at the bar. She had bought him a drink. He liked that kind of fearlessness in a woman. After the two began talking it became clear the girl was a go getter, type A kind of person. She reminded him of Fallon.**_

 _ **At the moment she was gazing at him adoringly. "My god you're attractive."**_

 _ **"Thanks," Dean replied brushing the compliment off. "But no time for that now. You need to tell me about the urban legend. Please. Lives are at stake."**_

 _ **"Sorry," the girl replied. "I just…can't even concentrate. It's like staring…into the sun."**_

 _ **"Oh please!" Dean jumped when he heard the scornful voice and winced when he saw Fallon standing behind him. And then he noticed Sam standing next to her. He looked about as displeased as Fallon. He was wearing one of his more impressive bitchfaces.**_

 _ **"Dean, what do you think you're doing?" he asked prissily.**_

 _ **"Sam, please," Dean said calmly. "Give me five minutes here."**_

 _ **"Dean, this is a very serious investigation," Sam nagged. "We don't have any time for any of your blah blah blah blah blah…"**_

"Right, and that's how it really happened," Sam cut him off angrily. "I don't sound like that, Dean!"

"That's what you sound like to me," Dean snapped back.

"You both sound like idiots," Fallon grumbled.

Bobby looked like he agreed with her as he glanced back and forth between the boys. "What's going on with you two?"

"Nothing," Sam answered.

"No, come on," Bobby said. "You're bickering like an old married couple."

"No, see, married couples can get divorced," Dean said emphatically. "Me and him, we're like, uh, Siamese twins."

"It's conjoined twins!" Sam cried exasperated.

"See what I mean?" Dean sighed annoyed.

"Well, Sam's right," Fallon said. "It's not politically correct to refer to conjoined twins as…"

"Why do you always agree with him?" Dean asked.

"I don't always agree with him," Fallon protested.

"She's right, Dean," Sam said. "She mostly agrees with you."

"Why do you two always have to drag me into it?" Fallon sighed covering her face with her hands. Both boys instantly looked guilty.

"You sure nothing's going on?" Bobby said doubtfully.

"We've just been on the road for too long," Sam said dismissively. "Tight quarters, all that. Don't worry about it."

"Okay," Bobby agreed shooting concerned looks at all three of them.

"So anyway," Sam said after a moment, getting back to the case, "we figured it might be a haunting, so we went to check out the scene of the crime…

 _When they had entered the building the professor had jumped from they were met immediately by one of the maintenance workers._

 _"Can I help you?"_

 _"Yeah," Sam replied. "We're with the electric company. We were called to come check the wires for one of the offices in the building."_

 _"You'll need a key to get into any of the offices," the worker said. "Good thing I have a set. Which office do you need to get into?"_

 _"Oh, man, I forget the number," Dean said. "It's the office of that professor that just died recently."_

 _"I know the one," the worker said. "You three can follow me."_

 _"Three?" Fallon blurted out without thinking._

 _The maintenance worker gave her a funny look. "Do you not work with them?"_

 _"No, actually," Dean said. "We were ordered here last minute by our boss. She's my girlfriend." Sam made a funny noise, but Dean ignored him. "We had a date tonight and she'd already arrived at the work building when we got the orders. When we wrap up here, we're heading on a late date."_

 _"Good thing we didn't make reservations," Fallon added. Dean smiled at her. Sam rolled his eyes._

 _"So, are you staying down here, then?" the maintenance worker asked._

 _"Not if I don't have to," Fallon replied. "Large, empty buildings give me the creeps."_

 _"This way then," the worker said leading them towards the stairs._

 _"So, how long've you been working here?" Sam asked._

 _"I've been mopping this floor for six years," the maintenance man said as they reached their floor and he led them into the professor's office. "There you go guys." Sam pulled out the EMF reader. "What the heck's that for?"_

 _"Just to find a wire in the wall," Sam replied._

 _"Huh," the worker huffed. "Not sure why you're wiring up this office. Not gonna do the professor much good."_

 _"I heard about that," Fallon said sitting down on the professor's desk. "Did he really kill himself?"_

 _"He went out the window, right there," the worker replied._

 _"Were you working that night?" Sam asked._

 _"I'm the one who found him," the man answered._

 _"Did you actually see him jump?" Fallon asked._

 _"Nope," the man replied. "I just saw him come up here and uh, well…"_

 _"What?" Sam questioned shooting Fallon a meaningful look._

 _"He wasn't alone," the worker said._

 _"Who was he with?" Dean asked through a mouthful of food. His cheeks were packed with nuts he'd found on the professor's desk…_

"Come on!" Dean cried. "I ate one. Maybe two!"

Sam sighed. "Just let me tell it, okay?

 _"He was with a young lady," the worker said. "I told the cops about her, but I guess they never found her."_

 _"You saw this girl go in, huh?" Sam questioned. "But did you ever see her come out?"_

 _"Now that you mention it, no," the worker replied._

 _"Have you ever seen her around the building before?" Fallon asked._

 _"Well, not her," the worker said sheepishly._

 _"What do you mean?" Dean asked, still munching on food. Sam glared at him and rolled his eyes at the fond look on Fallon's face._

 _"I don't mean to cast aspersions on a dead guy," the worker said placatingly, "but uh… Mister Morality here, he brought a lot of girls up here. Got more ass than a toilet seat." Dean and the worker laughed. Fallon looked pained. Sam just glared._

 _"One more thing," he said, keeping his tone professional. "This building only has four stories, right?"_

 _"Yeah," the worker confirmed._

 _"So, there wouldn't be a room six-six-nine?"_

 _"Course not," the worker replied. "Why do you ask?"_

 _"Just curious," Sam replied. "Thanks."_

 _After pretending to work around in the office for a while they headed back to their motel room. Sam sat down at the table. Fallon took the seat across from him._

 _"Well, there were no traces of EMF," Sam said._

 _"I can second that," Fallon said. "There are no ghosts in that building."_

 _"And the room six-six-nine's a load of crap," Dean added._

 _"So, what do you think?" Sam asked. "The professor was just a jumper? A legend's just a legend?"_

 _"I don't know," Dean replied. "I mean, uh, the girl the janitor described, that's pretty weird."_

 _"Not really," Fallon disagreed. "That building has multiple exits and stairwells. She could have easily slipped out without being seen by anyone."_

 _"Fallon's got a point there," Sam said._

 _"Still, we oughta check out the history of the building," Dean replied. "See if any co-ed ganked herself there."_

 _"Yeah, you're right," Sam said pulling his laptop over to him. Dean stepped into the bathroom. Sam frowned as he stared at the screen. "Dude, were you on my computer?"_

 _Dean stepped back out of the bathroom, looking confused. "No."_

 _"Oh really?" Sam questioned disbelievingly. "Cause it's frozen now. On, uh, ." Dean stares at him for another moment before wincing and ducking quickly back into the bathroom. "Dean! Would you… just, don't touch my stuff anymore, okay?"_

 _"Why don't you control your O.C.D?" Dean shouted from the bathroom._

 _"Well," Fallon commented from behind him; she had come over to see what the fuss was about, "it could have frozen on a more evocative scene."_

 _"That's helpful, Fallon. Thanks," Sam snapped._

"But did you dig anything up about this building?" Bobby asked confused. "Or on the suicidal co-ed?"

"No," Sam answered. "History's clean."

"Then it's not a haunting," Bobby said.

"Well… it's weird," Sam said.

"What's weird?" Bobby asked.

"What isn't weird at this point," Fallon grumbled. She was now sprawled across the mattress behind Bobby. A pillow lying over her face. Bobby kept shooting her concerned looks.

"This next part," Dean said, "we, uh, we didn't see it happen ourselves exactly, but it's pretty friggin' weird. Even for us."

"What happened?" Bobby asked.

"E.T.," Fallon said from under the pillow. "Beamed up the frat boy me and Sam had talked to at the bar. Would have been funnier if his name was Scotty."

"Aliens?!" Bobby exclaimed. He clearly didn't believe this.

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Look, even if they are real, they're sure as hell not coming to earth and swiping people," Bobby said.

"Hey, believe me," Dean replied. "We know."

"My whole life I've never found evidence of an honest-to-God abduction," Bobby said. "It's all just cranks and pranks."

"Yeah, that's what we thought, but… we figured we'd at least talk to the guy.

 **They wound up back at the bar they'd scoped out at the beginning of their investigation. It was clearly a favorite haunt of their latest victim. Fallon and Sam had interviewed him their first night of the investigation. Looking at the poor sap now, Fallon couldn't picture the confident, cocky frat boy he'd been a few nights earlier. He looked miserable as he shot back another shot.**

 **"Hey, you ought to give those purple nurples a shot," Dean suggested enthusiastically.**

 **"So, what happened, Curtis?" Sam asked.**

 **"You won't believe me," Curtis replied. "Nobody does."**

 **"Give us a chance," Sam encouraged.**

 **"I do not want this in the papers," Curtis said firmly.**

 **"Off the record, then," Dean agreed.**

 **"I, uh… blacked out, and…I lost time, and when I woke up, I didn't know where I was," Curtis explained haltingly, "and these tiny, grey aliens were surrounding me."**

 **"Then what?" Sam asked.**

 **"They did tests on me," Curtis squeaked. "And uh, they, uh… they probed me." Fallon couldn't help it. She laughed.**

 **"They probed you?" Dean asked, sounding disturbed.**

 **"Yeah, they probed me," Curtis said. "Again, and a…Again and…and again." With how hard she was laughing, Fallon thought it was a good thing she no longer needed to breathe. Her laughing grew harder as the frat boy went on. "And again, and again and again… and then one more time."**

 **"Yikes," Dean commented.**

 **"And that's not even the worst of it," Curtis said.**

 **"How could it get any worse?" Dean asked incredulously. "Some alien made you his bitch."**

 **"They… they made me slow dance!" Curtis cries.**

 **Fallon got up from the table and walked out to the lot, before she could really lose it. She walked up to the Impala and leaned against it. She was just getting it back together when the boys came out of the bar and came over to join her. The second the three made eye contact they started laughing again."**

"You guys are exaggerating again, huh?" Bobby sighed.

"No, that actually happened," Fallon said peering out from beneath her pillow.

"Then this frat boy's just nuts," Bobby stated.

"We're not so sure," Dean replied.

 **In the morning, the three of them set out for the area Curtis had said he'd been abducted from. No one really thought they'd find anything, so they were stunned to see a ring of burnt grass. Silence settled over them for a moment as they inspected it.**

 **"This was made by some type of jet engine," Fallon said softly.**

 **"You mean some saucer-shaped jet engine?" Dean asked incredulously.**

 **"What else could it be?" Sam asked.**

 **"What the hell?" Dean commented.**

 **"I don't know," Sam replied.**

 **"Seriously, dude, what the hell?!"**

 **"Neither of us have an answer for you," Fallon said.**

 **"No, but, first the haunting, now this?" Sam said. "The timing alone… there's got to be some kind of connection."**

 **"You mean the angry spirit and the sexed up E.T.?" Dean said. "What could the connection possibly be?" Sam and Fallon shared a look before both shrugging.**

"But what could we do?" Dean asked continuing to explain things to Bobby. "So, we just kept on digging.

 _ **"So, what now?" Fallon asked. "We're out of leads."**_

 _ **"We need to find someone to talk to," Dean said.**_

 _ **"About what?" Fallon questioned.**_

 _ **"A friend of Curtis," Dean replied, glancing around at the students milling about the campus. He suddenly pointed at a student walking a few feet ahead of him. "That one. He has the symbol of Curtis' fraternity on his backpack. They hurried to catch up with him.**_

 _ **"Hey!" Sam called. "Hey you!"**_

 _ **The student turned around to face them. "Can I help you?"**_

 _ **"Yeah, actually," Sam said. "We're reporters with a local news magazine. We're writing an article about some strange things that have been happening on this campus lately. We were just wondering if you knew Curtis."**_

 _ **The student made a face at the name. "Yeah, I know him."**_

 _ **"You were in the same house, right?" Sam questioned.**_

 _ **"Yeah," the student replied.**_

 _ **"You heard what happened to him?" Dean asked.**_

 _ **"He says it was aliens, but you know, whatever," the student said shrugging.**_

 _ **"Look man," Sam said, concern dripping from his voice, "I know this all has to be so hard."**_

 _ **The student shifted on his feet uncomfortable. "Um, not so much."**_

 _ **"But I want you to know," Sam continued, "I'm here for you. You brave, little soldier. I acknowledge your pain. Come here." He pulled the student into a hug. "You're too precious for this world."**_

"I never said that!" Sam cried angrily.

"You're always saying pansy stuff like that," Dean said.

"Please stop," Fallon whined, her voice muffled by the pillow. "You're going to give me a migraine, and that shouldn't even be possible!"

 _ **"Well, um… yeah, uh, thanks," the student said squirming out of Sam's grasp. "Thanks for the hug, but, uh, I'm okay. Really. To tell you the truth, whatever happened to Curtis, he had it coming."**_

 _ **"Guess these two aren't friendly," Fallon commented.**_

 _ **"Why is that?" Dean asked.**_

 _ **"He's our pledge master," the student told them. "Put us through hell this semester, and got off on it. So now he knows how we feel."**_

 _ **"Well, thanks for your time," Sam said. "Keep marching on."**_

 _ **"Yeah," the student said giving him an odd look, "will do."**_

 _ **The three of them arrived back at the motel room more or less feeling like they'd accomplished nothing. "Still doesn't make a lick of sense," Dean said, "but, hey, at least there's one connection."**_

 _ **"What connection is that?" Fallon asked.**_

 _ **"The victims," Dean said. "The professor and the frat guy, they're both dicks."**_

 _ **"What a connection," Fallon mumbled throwing herself across the mattress of one of the beds.**_

 _ **"Hey, if you've got any other ideas, I'm all ears," Dean replied. Fallon waved him off.**_

 _ **"Where's my laptop?" Sam asked suddenly from across the room.**_

 _ **"I don't know," Dean replied sitting down next to Fallon and continuing to express his thesis about the connection. "Think about it. A philandering professor gets a dead girl. A pledge master gets hazed."**_

 _ **"I left it in here," Sam insisted.**_

 _ **"You obviously didn't," Dean said annoyed, his attention still on the case. "I mean, these punishments…they're almost poetic. Actually, it'd be more like a limerick, but still…"**_

 _ **"Okay, hilarious," Sam cut him off. "Where'd you hide it?"**_

 _ **"What, your computer?"**_

 _ **"Yeah," Sam replied. "Where'd you hide it?"**_

 _ **"Why would I take your computer?" Dean asked.**_

 _ **"Because no one else could have, Dean!" Sam cried. "We keep the door locked. We never let any maid in."**_

 _ **"Fallon could have taken it," Dean said. Fallon groaned and pulled a pillow over her head.**_

 _ **"Fallon wouldn't do that, Dean," Sam said. "Don't be a dick to her."**_

 _ **"Well, then it looks like you lost it, Pointdexter," Dean snapped. "And I'm not being a dick to her. I'm just stating she could have hidden it." A mumbled response from beneath the pillow sounded like Fallon was calling them both dicks, but they ignored her.**_

 _ **"Dude, you know something? I put up with a lot from you!" Sam cried.**_

 _ **"What are you talking about?" Dean asked angrily. "I'm a joy to be around."**_

 _ **"Yeah?" Sam said motioning around the room. "Your dirty socks are in the sink. Your food in the fridge."**_

 _ **"What's wrong with my food?"**_

 _ **"It's not food anymore, Dean. It's Darwinism!" Sam cried. "All I ask from you, the one thing, is that you don't mess with my stuff."**_

 _ **"You done?" Dean asked, bored.**_

 _ **"You know, how would you feel if I screwed with the Impala?" Sam asked pointedly.**_

 _ **"It'd be the last thing you ever did," Dean replied threateningly.**_

"Did you take his computer?" Bobby asked, interrupting the tale.

"Serves him right, but no," Dean replied.

"Well, I didn't lose it," Sam said. "I don't lose things."

"Oh, that's right," Dean said mockingly. "Yeah, cause he's Mister Perfect. And because Fallon's so innocent she would never pull a prank on you." Fallon screamed behind her pillow.

"Maybe you should leave Fallon out of this," Bobby suggested. "Why don't you just tell me what happened next?"

"There was one more victim," Dean said.

"Right, now we didn't see this one ourselves, either," Sam explained. "We kind of put it together from the evidence. But this guy, he was a research scientist. Animal testing."

"Yeah, you know… a dick," Dean added. "Which fits the pattern."

 **Fallon cracked the window to the morgue open for the boys and they both slid into the room. Fallon made a motion with her hand and one of the body drawers slid open. The body was covered in a blood-stained cloth.**

 **"I'm not pulling that back," Fallon said.**

 **"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Dean replied. He quickly pulled the sheet back. The three of them grimaced at the sight of the mangled body. "Okay, that is just nasty."**

 **"Uh, yeah," Sam agreed, his hand covering his mouth and nose.**

 **"Mutilated?"**

 **"You have to ask?" Fallon cried. "He looks like he was eaten by something."**

 **"They identify him, yet?" Dean asked.**

 **"Yeah, uh, a research scientist at the college," Sam said. "Guess where his office was. Crawford Hall. The same as the professor."**

 **"Also where Curtis got beamed up," Fallon added. "Another connection."**

 **"Yeah," Sam said, staring intently at the mangled corpse. "Hey, grab me that light, would you?" Dean shoved the magnifying light towards Sam. "Thanks."**

 **"What is it?" Dean asked.**

 **"Looks like… a belly scale," Sam said.**

 **"From what?"**

 **"Uh… an alligator?"**

 **"An alligator in the sewer?" Dean said dismissively. "Come on."**

 **"Well, Dean, it's a classic urban legend," Sam said. "A kid flushes a baby gator down the toilet, and it grows huge in the tunnels."**

 **"Sounds improbable to me," Fallon added. "No one has actually found an alligator in the sewer."**

 **"She's right," Dean said. "They're not real."**

 **"Well, neither is alien abduction, but something chomped on this guy," Sam said.**

 **"This couldn't get any weirder," Dean sighed.**

 **"You should never say things like that," Fallon said.**

 **"Maybe we should get some help," Sam suggested. "I'll call Bobby. Maybe he's run into something like this before."**

 **"Oh, I'm sure he has," Dean replied sarcastically. "Just your typical haunted campus, alien abduction, alligator-in-the -sewer gig. Yeah, it's simple."**

"We decided to search the sewers anyway," Sam told Bobby. "We split up. Fallon and I searched one side of the campus. Dean took the other."

"Did you find anything?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, I found something," Dean said, his tone angry. "Just not in the sewer."

"Oh, here we go," Fallon sighed.

 _ **"You think this is funny?!" Dean cried storming into the motel room.**_

 _ **"It depends," Sam replied. "What?"**_

 _ **"The…the…the car!" Dean cried.**_

 _ **"What happened to the car?" Fallon asked.**_

 _ **He ignored her and continued to glare at Sam. "You can't let the air out of the tires, you idiot. You're gonna bend the rims!"**_

 _ **"Whoa, wait a minute," Sam said. "I didn't go near your car, and before you can even point your finger at anyone else, neither did Fallon."**_

 _ **"I know it wasn't Fallon," Dean snapped. "I found this." He held out Sam's wallet. Sam patted his pockets and frowned angrily up at Dean.**_

 _ **"Give me back my money!"**_

 _ **"Oh no, no," Dean replied. "Consider it reparations for, uh, emotional trauma."**_

 _ **"Dean, I think you might be overreacting a little," Fallon said trying to calm things down. Both boys ignored her.**_

 _ **"Dean, give it back," Sam said holding his hand out.**_

 _ **"No."**_

 _ **"Dean, I've had it up to here with you," Sam grumbled.**_

 _ **"Boys," Fallon said moving to the edge of the bed. They ignored her again.**_

 _ **"Right back at you!" Dean cried. Sam lunged for Dean and the two fell back on the bed as they fought over the money.**_

 _ **"Boys!" Fallon cried alarmed now as their wrestling moved them closer to her. "Watch where you're…EEEEK!" Both boys landed on her. Even more unfortunately, Sam was on top of the pile. She groaned and shoved an elbow backwards into Dean's stomach. "Get off of me."**_

"Okay, I've heard enough," Bobby said.

"You showed up about an hour after that," Dean said.

"I'm surprised at you two," Bobby said. "I really am. Sam, first off, Dean did not steal your computer."

"But I…"

"Sh, sh, sh!" Bobby shushed him and then rounded on Dean. "And Dean, Sam did not touch your car."

"Yeah!" Sam said petulantly.

"And if you two bothered to pull your heads outta your asses, it all would have been pretty clear," Bobby continued to admonish them.

"What?" Dean said.

"What you're dealing with," Bobby said.

"Uh…"

"I got nothing," Dean said.

"Me neither," Sam agreed.

"You got a trickster on your hands," Bobby sighed.

"That's what I thought!" Dean said like he'd known that all along.

"What?!" Sam cried. "No, you didn't."

"I got to tell you," Bobby said. "You two were the biggest clues."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"These things create chaos and mischief as easy as breathing," Bobby explained. "And it's got you so turned around and at each other's throats, you can't even think straight. It didn't need to distract Fallon. She's been too busy trying to keep the peace. She's been the real victim in all of this."

Both boys glanced over at Fallon, who was peering cautiously out at them from underneath her pillow. They shifted guiltily in their seats. "Sorry, Fallon," they both said.

"S'okay," Fallon murmured coming out from behind the pillow.

"It knows you're onto him, and it's been playing you like fiddles," Bobby told them.

"So, what is it?" Dean asked. "Spirit? Demon? What?"

"Well, more like demigods, really," Bobby replied. "There's Loki in Scandinavia. There's Anansi in West Africa. Dozens of them. They're immortal, and they can create things out of thin air. Things as real as you and me. Make them vanish just as quick."

"You mean like an angry spirit or an alien or an alligator?"

"The victims fit the M.O. too," Bobby continued to explain. "Tricksters target the high and the mighty, knock them down a peg, usually with a sense of humor. Deadly pranks, things like that."

"Bobby, what do these things look like?" Dean asked.

"Lots of things," Bobby said, "but human mostly."

"And what human do we know who's been at ground zero this whole time?" Dean said, realization dawning on him.

"The janitor?" Fallon questioned. "I didn't get any supernatural sensation around him."

"He could hide that from you, easily, Fallon," Bobby said. "Especially since you've never come across a trickster before."

Fallon nodded. "Okay. So, what do we do?"

"Well, we need more concrete evidence," Sam said.

"Yeah, but what would that evidence be?" Dean asked.

"These things have a wicked metabolism," Bobby said. "And an awful sweet tooth."

"So, we're supposed to take this guy out if he likes the occasional candy bar?" Fallon questioned.

Bobby shrugged. "I've taken things out on less evidence than that."

"So, how do you take out one of these things?" Sam asked.

"With a stake," Bobby said.

"This thing is a demigod, but you can take it out with a stick?" Fallon asked.

"Hey, I don't make the rules," Bobby replied.

"We have two stakes in the trunk of the Impala," Dean said.

"Good," Bobby said. "I have one of my own."

"Great," Fallon said. "Let's just get this show on the road, shall we?"

"I'll keep him distracted while you and Sam check out his work locker," Dean said.

"Sounds good to me," Sam replied.

Fallon teleported into the employee breakroom of the college building and began to move through the row of lockers. Sam soon joined her and the two quickly started going through them together.

"Hey," Fallon said after a moment holding up a copy of the _Weekly World News_.

"Alien Abducts Cheerleader"," Sam read the title aloud. "Does that really warrant a headline?"

"When you care more about sensation than truth, I guess it does," Fallon replied stuffing the paper back in the locker. "Let's go wait for Dean." The two of them went outside and Dean joined them shortly after.

"Find anything?" Dean asked.

"A newspaper article about an alien abduction," Fallon replied.

"Great! So, we have our guy," Dean said.

"Just cause her reads the _Weekly World News_ doesn't mean he's our guy," Sam protested. "I mean, you read it too."

"I'm telling you, it's him," Dean argued.

"Look, I just think we need some hard proof," Sam said. "That's all."

"Okay, another thing Bobby mentioned was that these suckers have a metabolism like an insect," Dean said. "They have a real sweet tooth."

"There weren't any candy bars in the locker," Fallon replied.

"You probably missed something," Dean brushed her off.

"Could you stop putting her down?" Sam snapped. "She's more than capable of looking for clues. Besides, I was with her. There were no sweets in the locker. I don't miss thing."

"Oh, right, cause you're Mr. Perfect," Dean replied sarcastically.

"Are you really still pissed at me cause of what the trickster did?" Sam sighed.

"You been a tight ass long before that trickster showed up," Dean replied.

"Okay, that's enough!" Fallon interceded. "We need more evidence than a trashy news article. Sam, go scope his place. Dean and I will keep an eye on him here."

"Fine," Sam agreed. "Just wait until I get back to confront him, okay?"

"Fine," Dean replied.

Dean and Fallon stayed outside of the building for about an hour. Enough time for the sun to go down. Fallon sat on the steps of the building, while Dean paced aggravatingly.

"Screw this!" he finally exclaimed and then hurried up the steps. Fallon followed him

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Taking care of this trickster," Dean replied pulling a wooden stake out from under his jacket.

"We're supposed to be waiting for Sam," Fallon said.

"Yeah, yeah, Mr. We need more concrete proof," Dean scoffed. "We know who our guy is. No point in delaying this any further."

"So, you're going to take a demi-god on by yourself?" Fallon questioned.

"I won't be by myself," Dean said. "I have you."

"That's sweet, but I've never faced a demi-god before," Fallon said. "I'm not sure I'm as big as an advantage as you're thinking."

Dean clapped a hand on her shoulder and gave a small squeeze. "You'll do fine."

Fallon sighed. "Alright. Where do you think he is?" Dean didn't have to answer. Music started playing; it was clearly coming from the auditorium. The two shared a glance before opening the theatre doors. On the stage a giant, red bed lay. A disco ball spun slowly from the ceiling. And there were two women in lingerie lounging on the bed staring seductively at Dean.

"We've been waiting for you, Dean," the brunette woman said.

"You have got to be kidding me," Fallon scoffed.

"Y-You guys aren't real," Dean said his eyes taking in the barely clad women.

"Trust me, sugar, it's gonna feel real," the brunette replied.

"What is this? A porno?" Fallon muttered moving in closer to Dean's side. The women ignored her.

"Come on, let us give you a massage," the blonde woman purred.

"You know, I'm a… I'm a sucker for a happy ending," Dean choked out. "Really, I am, but I…I'm gonna have to pass."

"They're peace offerings," a voice said from the audience. Fallon and Dean both spun around to see the trickster sitting a few rows away. "I know what you and your brother do. I've been around a while. Run into your kind before."

"Well, then you know that I can't let you keep hurting people," Dean said.

"Come on!" the trickster cried. "Those people got what was coming to them. Hoisted on their own petards. But you and Sam… I like you. So, treat yourself…long as you want. Just long enough for me to move on to the next town." Dean looked hesitant. "If those two aren't your type you can always have Fallon here."

"Hey!" Fallon cried as her clothes suddenly disappeared and she was standing on the stage in only her underwear, a matching set of champagne colored lace panties and bra. Dean glanced at her startled for a moment before his gaze wandered over her like it had the other two women before. Fallon crossed her arms in front of her breasts. "Dean!"

"Sorry," Dean replied quickly, looking back at the trickster.

"I don't think I can let you do that," Dean replied.

"I don't want to hurt you," the trickster said sincerely. "And you know that I can."

"Look, man, I got to tell you I dig your style," Dean admitted. "The slow dancing alien…"

"One of my personal favorites," the trickster said.

"But I can't let you go," Dean admitted.

"Too bad," the trickster sighed. "Like I said, I like you." Suddenly, Fallon was flung backwards and slammed into a St. Andrew's Cross. Her wrists and ankles were quickly captured in iron locks, preventing any chance of escape.

"Are you freaking kidding me?!" she screeched.

"Sorry, doll," the trickster replied. He didn't sound very sorry about it. "I'm afraid I need you out of the fight." He turned back to face Dean. "Now you have no back up."

"I'm going to have to disagree with you there," Dean replied as the back doors to the theater opened and Sam and Bobby stepped into the room.

The trickster looked delighted. "That fight you guys had outside… that was a trick? Not bad. But you want to see a real trick?" A man with a chainsaw appeared and attacked Sam. Fallon watched as Bobby hurried to Sam's aide and the two began to fight off the conjured lunatic. Meanwhile, the two lingerie clad women from earlier attacked Dean. She didn't feel too terrible for him. She suspected this probably was a fantasy of his. She watched as the two tossed Dean into the audience.

The trickster stood up over him. "Dean, Dean, Dean," he sighed. "I did not want to have to do this."

Dean reacted quickly and stabbed the trickster in the chest. "Me neither." The man with the chainsaw disappeared along with the women and the cross Fallon was chained too. She dropped to the ground. When she stood back up, she was back in her clothes. Quickly, she walked off the stage and headed for the exit.

"So, Fallon…"

"Not a word, Dean," she snapped continuing to head for the exit. "We're never speaking of this again." She heard Sam laugh behind her. This was one hunt she did not want to think about again.


End file.
